The Agency: Meeting of Souls
by karina001
Summary: In an alternate universe those with psionic ability receive specialist training and take positions of prominence in society. For Treize Kushrenada his position as Prime for The Agency leads him into some interesting situations and may lead him to meet the
1. Chapter 1

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 1/??

Author: Karina

Pairings 13x6 [eventual, 5xS [established, 3x4, Others undecided at this time.

Warnings: Extreme Alternate Universe setting. Aussie spelling, not much else in the early chapters though it will involve murder, stalking and possibly some colourful language down the track. Some Out Of Character depictions are unavoidable considering the alternate universe setting.

Rating: M [In Australia that would be mature adult 15+ Not sure with the new rating system. Rated for murder and violence as well as adult concepts.

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. That's about as plain as you could say it.

Summary: The world took a very different turn with the acknowledgement and training of select psychic individuals enlisted in elite fields such as law enforcement and politics. A grading system for the strength of psionic abilities was developed and those who were the top of the elite have been dubbed Prime Talents and are highly sought after. Elite institutions have been developed to mark, train and employ individuals with useable psionic talents. The colonies of canon Gundam Wing do exist in this fic and were founded before the psionic system was founded.

//…// Thoughts

+/.../+ Telepathy

Chapter One

The sound of traffic seemed to fade into the background as he nodded a brief thank you and dismissal to the waiter who brought his coffee. He had escaped the noise of the office for this back street café, one of the few places in the city that he considered capable of brewing decent coffee, to celebrate the successful conclusion of his latest case. The case had been officially concluded just three hours ago, and had been classified as high priority and involved high profile very public identities. His initial briefing was to keep the investigation discreet above all costs, as the powers that be could not afford a hint of scandal at this time. Investigating corruption amid high profile politicians in the ESUN Council was not what he would account as his favourite pastime, however the matter had been brought to a satisfying conclusion for all persons concerned.

Some days, and investigations, were worse than others and he had to admit that these last few days had brought home to him how much effort he had been extending to control his shields and abilities, and see the file brought to bed with all speed. Be discreet, they had said, and the case had been passed to him as he excelled at discretion. While he had a personal dislike for such matters he was a professional, and once again had provided them with both an efficient and speedy investigation. No doubt certain influential persons were far from pleased, but they would not be able to refute his findings, and the case had been brought to a satisfactory conclusion without the involvement of messy media interference.

With the task complete and his desk miraculously clear of further cases, he had filled out his report speedily and thoroughly, and felt himself to be justified in taking this opportunity to skip out of the office and rest and relax over a decent cup of coffee. Surely no one could deny him a break.

Truth be told he needed more than a few paltry minutes over a coffee to unwind. He needed more than a few hours to sort out his shields, though he knew already it was unlikely he would be given the time he needed. His services were in demand, but there was such a thing as being too popular and lately he had been a very desired commodity. It was all a part of the cost of being a Prime Talent, but even Prime level Psi's required consideration and time to restore equilibrium to their psyches.

He could not deny that his shields were under growing distress. The need to secure isolation and time to effectively strengthen his mental defences was becoming more and more imperative. At the same time he could clear his mind of unwanted residue picked up from the minds of others, and restore his inner balance. He hated the necessity of having to perform discreet deep scans on those subjects who employed electronic counter measures against unwanted telepathic contact.

Circumventing artificial shields was guaranteed to give him a headache no standard issue pain killers could help control. There was also the small matter that it was highly illegal to enter the mind of another person, but in this case he had been granted special dispensation to engage in a telepathic scan of not only a highly placed government official, but also one who employed the latest protections against telepathic intrusion. It was never pleasant dealing with the disruption caused by a personal mind shield, and not every Prime had the ability to circumvent the mechanical interference. It was a unique facet of his talent that he was one of three Prime rated telepaths capable of penetrating the artificial shields, but it was a task that usually turned his stomach. Literally.

As per his instructions he had left his subject in good health physically and mentally, and totally unaware of the contact that had taken place. The man had been intent on filling out his own paperwork, and no hint of awareness that his thoughts had not been his own exclusive property had existed when he had withdrawn that contact. It had required a delicate touch to accomplish the contact, and had required his total concentration to slip his awareness through the shields interference without alerting the subject. Nor had it been a quick contact as the information he had been required to learn was buried deep within the man's mind, but it was a task he had accomplished and then, thankfully, left behind him.

The support team monitoring him were on hand when he had returned his awareness to his own body, and he suffered through the usual uncomfortable side effects. Why his body equated the interference of the mechanical devices into a round of vomiting he did not understand, but it was always the same. Half way through the most uncomfortable and in his view, embarrassing, nausea the headache had bloomed. His attendant medical officer had, as always, dealt with each of the symptoms in a coldly professional manner, pumped him full of painkillers as soon as the nausea had subsided, and left him with the admonishment that he sleep. Which he did-like the dead-only to wake and fill out the paperwork which always seemed to take more time than the actual deep scan had required.

Sometimes in life it was the simple things that gave one the greatest satisfaction and pleasure. Simple things like being able to sit in a quiet café, with a well brewed coffee in hand, and take the time to watch the world go by. In this moment there was no need for him to send out his awareness to dabble in the thoughts of others. There was no need for him to seek out evidence of corruption and deception that could endanger the peace of the ESUN. He did not have to drown his awareness amid the mechanical noise of an artificial mind shield to gain the hidden thoughts of a man who should have known better than to attempt deception in this day and age.

Here on this quiet side street, in the hub of the city, it was all about ordinary people doing ordinary things, and that equated to each person being lost in their own isolated little bubble of reality.

It was a relief to be just one more person in the crowd, not worth a second look other than to have the odd man, and more than the odd woman, cast an admiring glance over his physical form. That basic human instinct he could live with, and he even enjoyed looking in return, but always he maintained that aloof 'this is my bubble and you can look but don't trespass' awareness that people sensed instinctively.

Had he ever been graced with the innocence he saw about him? Surely not since his early days of childhood had he viewed the world with the innocence he sensed from most of the people walking past the café. Those long ago days when he had been considered to be too young by his family to be of use in the adult world. His family had begun the training of his awareness of the world, and the intricacies of political expediency, from the tender age of seven. His place amid politics and world shaking intrigue had been planned out for him from the moment of his birth, and he could not curse them enough for their thoughtfulness. That he was not now a political creature he owed entirely to good fortune, an awakened awareness of his innate psionic abilities, and a gypsy named Gabriella.

//Ah, Gabriella. Some days I don't know if I should thank you or curse you. I miss you though. It is high time I visited with you, My Dear.//

His attention moved slowly over the few patrons of the café and to the people strolling past. It was a lovely day, and that seemed to bring out the tourists. There would be a change in the traffic lights soon and a larger mass would walk past, some hurrying and intent on work, others at a more sedate pace and admiring the scenery; the growing number of tourists out for a stroll with their obligatory cameras ready to indulge in the history of the old city. People out for a shopping excursion intent on finding that special something for someone in their lives, and the odd street urchin hunting for an easy mark. Largely simple people concerned with their own lives, and not giving a fig for the intricacies that enabled them to enjoy their little bubbles of reality.

//They have no idea. No idea at all. Each one of them lost in their own little worlds. Most of the time they don't see who is walking beside them. They don't give a thought to what others do to make this world go around. So many of them never pay attention to the world around them, other than to shake their heads at the news casts, mutter 'what is life coming to?' and then go back to their lives. All they see is their own world as it revolves around them and their immediate family. It must be nice to be safe and secure in the shell of ignorance that keeps the greater world at bay.//

He only wished he was graced with that innocence.

The coffee at least was good, though he could have wished there was more of it. The cup was tiny and for the price he had paid the quantity it delivered seemed hardly sufficient. It was, however, well brewed coffee, and he would still be enjoying the flavour of this cup in an hour's time and the aroma would linger in his nostrils, tantalizing him pleasantly. A good cup of coffee was worth a little expense and this was a most excellent Arabica blend.

Quality was what was important, not quantity. That was a lesson he had learned during childhood in his isolated and privileged world of wealth and prestige. If you wanted the finer things in life then you must understand that they would not simply come to you. For you to appreciate the finer things you needed to pay for them, and to pay for that quality usually required that you worked hard for the privilege of savouring the reward at the end. His father had always growled at certain frivolous habits amid his relatives, his favourite catch cry had been 'What was the use of having the means to buy what you wanted if you did not appreciate the value of what you brought?'

His lips twitched into a smile, a small curve of his lips discreetly hidden by the cup raised and positioned just before his face. His father. It had been a long time since he had thought of the parent lost to him in a night of chaos and bloodshed. One of the many reasons he had taken the path in life that he had was to ensure a repeat of that terrorist example not occur again.

He drew in a slow measured breath through his nose, the aroma of the blend rich and robust, and further tantalized his senses by restraining from tasting the brew. One must first savour the experience before one indulged in the flavour. White Russian. One of his favourite blends, and always to be savoured in every aspect possible, not simply swallowed. The taste would be robust, rich with the flavour of the liquor it was blended with, yet there would be a delicacy that would tease and tantalize his taste buds. Normally this would be an after dinner coffee, but he had felt the need to pamper himself, and White Russian was guaranteed to put him in a pleasant frame of mind.

One really should savour the taste, the texture and the aroma of a good coffee. It was all a part of the experience, much like living a full life.

The young man over by the sidewalk, sitting at a table partially concealed from the sidewalk, who was playing footsy with a pretty blonde girl with sparkling blue eyes. He had ordered White Russian and Treize lamented it as a waste of such exquisite coffee. The boy did not taste what he drank, being too wrapped up in the girl and whatever he had said that caused her to dissolve into a most unbecoming display of giggles. Treize did not, and never had, been able to abide giggling. She blushed most attractively, he admitted, but giggles were something that he found reminiscent of fawning husband-hunting aristocrats out for title and prestige. She was well worth looking at, but not at the cost of treating such a distinctive coffee so shabbily.

Loosing a testing tendril of awareness he eased back on the intensity of his personal shield. Now that his headache was under control he needed to determine the extent of his strength and sensitivity, and mark the resilience of his talent. He would skim the surface thoughts of a few of those around him, being careful not to invade the privacy of their innermost thoughts, and he might as well begin with that rather ignorant young man.

/ … I need to get her to agree. It could be a wild weekend if she would throw off the shackles her parents have around her. Yeah. I can see her lying naked on the beach with the surf washing over her…/+

He slammed down his barriers and sighed. He might have known it would be sex. It was a fact that the adolescent and adult human male could not think a thought that did not contain some sexual connotations for more that six seconds. Scientists had extrapolated it, and telepaths later confirmed, there was always something sexual to be derived from the thought processes of the male of the species. Primal instinct. A part of the human races survival instinct, ingrained into the male psyche somewhere in the primordial past, that lingered to this day of supposed enlightenment.

Think sex and breed.

If he should lower his shields and sample the psychic atmosphere surrounding him, touching on a dozen random people in the cafe and moving along the street, he had no doubt that the males he touched would be thinking about sex. Time and experience in the use of his talent had demonstrated to him that a greater majority of males over females would be entertaining such thoughts, though there would be women, particularly the adolescent females, whose thoughts would be flavoured with sex.

He snorted softly in disgust. There was no one in his immediate vicinity to hear him, certainly no one from his office or his social standing to mark his presence, and he could not, therefore, endanger his reputation by uttering so base a sound.

//If life was that simple how easy it would be.//

One of his instructors from the not so distant past had assessed the nature of the human male and summed it up in five basic words. Sex. Hunt. Kill. Eat. Sex. Treize considered him to be a rather wise man, and the fact that he was a Level Two telepathic talent only added weight to his observations.

//As my later observations have proven his assessment to be disturbingly accurate. Boiled down to basics the nature of the human male does appear to equate to those five basic things.// He smiled behind the shelter of his cup, recalling the man clearly and the serious expression in his eyes as he expounded on his theory. //He stressed five points, counting sex twice in his evaluation, not as one step on a never ending loop. He stressed that it is sex in many ways that was far more important to the human male than the urge to hunt, kill and eat. My observations since then seem to have justified his comments, though at the time I considered him to be attempting to be amusing and keep his audiences attention.//

Cautiously he extended a tendril of awareness once more, lowering his shield by degrees and sending his awareness skimming over the flow of humanity walking past the café.

+/ ...feel that skin on mine… Not good enough but for now it will do… Inferior. Totally inferior to his perfection but the hair… have to get these papers to… I wonder what Joshua would think of this dress… time waits for no man… Look at the legs on that… wouldn't mind getting a piece of that… /+

He shook his head slightly, withdrawing the tendrils of awareness and closing his eyes against the sights that might act as a distraction while he worked at tightening his shields against the growing onslaught of thought. It was enough to warn him that he would need to take major steps to avoid the danger of mental leakage. He was not on duty at this particular point in time, and he did not need the thoughts of others disturbing his peace of mind. It had been too easy to pick up the public thoughts of those people minding their own business as they walked by. He was a Prime talent and he needed to guard his awareness as jealously as a merchant banker guarded his vaults.

Soon enough he would have to return to his duty to the people, but for these few minutes when he had escaped the confines of the office, he sought only to savour his coffee, and to enjoy the peace to have his mind his own. No duty, as designated by his Commander, required him to spread his awareness out and touch the minds of these innocents, who did not suspect their every thought was an open book to a high level telepath. Nor did he need to suffer the encroachment of emotions not his own, as transmitted via his empathy, to disturb him. For these few brief minutes he could enjoy the solitary unit known as Treize Kushrenada, and give not a care to the needs of others.

A few blessed minutes of peace before reality crashed around him would be enough to restore him to a working level, and he sipped the coffee, rolling it gently over his tongue, allowing it to caress his sense of taste. This was indulgence at its best. Almost decadent indulgence but there was not a single thought of guilt. He needed to escape more often.

Of course it could not last.

"Treize. Mind if I join you?"

//Yes, I mind. No, you may not join me, but I cannot say that, can I? It would be notably impolite and I am, above all, polite. I will not breach my personal code of conduct and chance besmirching my reputation, by informing you that you are as welcome as a case of Hives would be about now. I know you are my partner, Chang, and that you have been set to watch dog the precious Prime, but I wish you would understand that I must have some peace. You encroach too much into my personal space and time. You and Une, and her endless stream of assignments.//

He sipped again at the coffee, rolling it over his tongue before he opened sapphire eyes and met the obsidian gaze directed down at him. Chang was at least polite enough to await permission before he set his rump to the chair opposite Treize. Said permission was granted in an unconsciously regal gesture, a tilt of the aristocratic head that drew eyes to them, but people lost interest quickly when the Oriental looking man nodded briefly and settled into a seat. He had always found Chang Wu Fei to be a personable young man, and while there were moments when he could cheerfully strangle the man, he was generally content to work with the agent.

Chang had his own personal code of conduct and politeness was high on his list of priorities. In that regard he had little in the way of complaints against the man, and therefore it was a warning when Chang brusquely waved away the waiter before he could approach the table to offer his services. That sent danger signals ringing for Treize, and he was certain Chang had not merely followed him to keep a watch on him, but had in fact come seeking him on a work related issue. He mentally reviewed his report and determined he had not omitted anything of importance, and decided Chang was in pursuit of him on their mutual Commander's instruction, thereby signalling a new case had been determined to be serious enough to warrant the Prime's attention.

For all that their appearance suggested them to be polar opposites, Treize being a shade over six feet tall and Chang all of eight inches shorter, one of oriental ethnic origin and the other clearly showing his Aryan descent, they had surprisingly little difficulty in working together. Their cultural differences were largely ignored by the other partner, though many people who knew them speculated on the success of their working relationship. Treize's privileged background was in direct contrast to the clan structure of the L5 partner in the team, and Chang displayed what Treize dubbed a most unhealthy eagerness to concentrate on his work to the exclusion of all else. Generally each held a high degree of respect for the abilities of the other, and their expertise had led them to be considered one of the best psi teams in the Agency.

//No doubt this is another example of his eagerness to please those above him. He may not consider adequate rest a requirement of his working conditions, but I am not so easily influenced by the words 'important' and 'mission'.//

"The streets are quiet today." Chang observed settling himself into the seat opposite his partner.

//Ah, polite small talk. That I did not expect.// "Pleasantly so."

The agent nodded, a single abrupt tip of his head that caused his tight ponytail to bob and his dark eyes moved over the area, scanning the sidewalk café. He had learned that Chang was always suspicious and always on edge, yet another aspect of the man that he found annoying, though he could live with the trait without difficulty. It had, after all, kept them from serious injury on more than once occasion.

"You turned your pager off."

//Ah, confirmation that it is not simple chance that finds you here. Well, I can not say that I am surprised. By this time in our relationship I should know that nothing you do is by chance.//

For the moment he chose to ignore the comment and instead enjoyed a third sip of his coffee, and took the time to inhale the rich aroma. He might be a decadent aristocratic fop, but he was not a stupid decadent aristocratic fop. His gaze flicked over the crowd moving past the café, marking a change in the traffic lights, and noted no one that sparked his interest. The powers that be preferred to keep the identity of their Prime level agent's secret, and it would be a rare individual who recognized him as more than the Duke he had become on the death of his father. It would be a rarer individual who dared to chance their life and sanity by taking action against him.

Contrary to popular belief Prime talents were not delicate jewels who needed to be locked away for their own protection. Despite the protests of his superiors in the Agency he refused a permanent bodyguard and that closeted protected existence. He had had enough of that kind of existence before he had broken from the mould the family had determined would be his future.

He had known that his absence would be noted, and he should have known that it would be Chang who would be dispatched to locate him. Their working association demanded a bond form between the two that neither partner could easily break, after having worked together for so long. That bond which allowed Chang to track him without conscious use of psi ability had begun to develop within days of their first introduction, and in the past it had led to some embarrassing moments. Embarrassing for Chang, he amended, as it took a great deal to embarrass him, or so his partner ranted on past occasions, but that closeness had also led to some highly amusing and entertaining moments.

He supposed it was his warped and, according to Chang, decadent sense of humour, that saw him enjoy Chang's discomfort so much, but the man did so rant over nothing. He supposed it was the clan upbringing that had produced the very private and personal individual with an overblown sense of modesty that he knew. If there was one thing that was guaranteed to get a reaction out of Chang, it was women and sex. Treize had found him to be a delight to tease using the insights their shared bond permitted him.

"You should not turn off the pager, Treize."

"Oh, do forgive me. I was under the impression that my contract stated I have the right to some modicum of privacy, and to three meals a day. If I choose to ensure that at least one of those meals is taken away from the office, and without an escort, then I do not see that they should complain."

Chang resisted the urge to sigh as he knew it would accomplish nothing other than to amuse the aristocrat. The man could give new meaning to the word difficult when the mood took him, and clearly today was to be such an instance. He wished the spoiled, pampered aristocrat would do them all a favour and get himself laid, and throw off some of that aggravation. He admitted to himself, if not to Treize, that the case so recently concluded had been a difficult and complicated piece of work for the telepathic empath, and the man deserved some down time, but he was not in control of the assignments. He was not the individual who had suggested Treize was the best suited for this new assignment, though to his great misfortune he was the one designated to find the man and ensure his presence at the briefing.

"There has been no complaint at your absence, but I recall you saying you would be available today. All day."

The rebuke was gentle. He dared not aggravate the Prime unnecessarily. This man, after all, could be more than reasonable, and while he might growl a little he had never refused an assignment. Personally he thought the Commander had a death wish to continue to exploit the man as she had. There was going to come a day when Treize Kushrenada, Mr Cool himself, would lose that legendary impassivity and stamp on the Commander. Hard.

"I can not enjoy even thirty minutes in which I might eat lunch? What has happened now that I am not permitted even this measure of peace?"

The question came out in a low voiced growl that clearly displayed his growing aggravation. Was it such an impossible ask? All he needed, all that he wanted, was to be given the time to unwind and to ensure that his shields could be maintained to peak performance. They would regret it if this Prime, like all other Primes, lost control of his talent, but then it would be too late for them to apologize as in the aftermath he would likely have little more intelligence than a vegetable.

//As if I did not know what was wrong. Perhaps it is corruption and dissent, or even blackmail that requires a delicate touch to extricate the knot of intrigue? Perhaps this time it will be murder and mayhem. The latter follows me around on a semi regular basis, and fits right in with political back stabbing. Or perchance it is yet another instance of riot control before the actual riot erupts? Which ever option it is, I could not feel less like participating in the investigation.//

"Business of the bloody kind." A low murmur and Chang scowled at the waiter who dared to make a foray in their direction. Again that imperious wave of dismissal, and he stood in a far from subtle hint that lunch was over and it was time to return to business.

// Here boy.// The errant vision of the agent calling him like a dog to heel flashed through his mind, and he ground his teeth in aggravation. His own visual interpretation, not Chang's he knew. //I do not feel like playing this game of Master and Slave. When is enough recognized as enough? I am tired. When do I finally receive the vacation I have been requesting? How long has it been since last I had an extended break? Almost two years? A touch more, perhaps? I do not call two days off from active duty, a condescending pat on the back and the command to 'sleep it off' a break. I am tired. Bone-aching tired, and I can foresee no change in the pattern of events. My verbal requests have been ignored, and written requests result only in two days free from the Agency. Something, but almost as good as nothing, a bone thrown to keep a dog quiet. Perhaps it is time to remind my esteemed colleagues of the exact terms of my contract, and their contractual obligations. In particular it may be time to remind them of the clause dealing with 'suitable respite' from activities placing strain on personal shields.//

He sipped, a deliberate small sample of the coffee and rolled it over his tongue and around his mouth, and held it for a long moment before swallowing, permitting the flavour to saturate his senses. Chang still stood expectantly over him, his dark eyes intense and attempting to will him out of the chair. Useless. One of Chang's particular expertise held no sway over a Prime Telepathic Empath.

//'Business of the bloody kind' undoubtedly means they have a corpse, and said corpse will not care that I delay five minutes to finish my coffee, and perhaps to make a point. I have gone out of my way since I joined the Agency to be amenable, but they have not returned the favour by given me the same consideration. If they ask I have no doubt Chang will tell them how uncooperative I have been. In fairness to him he will also elucidate on my reasons.//

Nor did he doubt that his employers would put this minor rebellion down to the eccentricities of the Talented, or to the foibles of the rich. Nor did he doubt that the Commander of his section would decide he was being bloody minded to spite her. There were days when he asked himself why he had chosen to work for the Agency. What ever had possessed him to agree to work for these people who seemed to conveniently forget the conditions of his employment laid down, not only for his well being, but their protection from his Talents? Unfortunately he knew the answer only too well.

Boredom.

Boredom and an unreasoning aversion and revulsion for the idea of working exclusively in political circles, nor was he minded to be nothing more than another asset of a multi millionaire and his greedy, money grubbing henchmen.

//Ah, but I am out of sorts today.//

He was independently wealthy, possessed one of the foremost noble titles in the European sector of the Earth, was brilliant intellectually and graced with a rare Psychic strength. He had craved change from the ambitions of his family to exploit the talents he had been born with. The chance to experience something very different from the hot house environment he had been reared to, and a far cry from the privileges his aristocratic roots had laid out for him and his family had determined he would live, had called to him.

For his efforts to assert his independence of mind, he had scandalized his family connections on the death of his father. What protection he had had from his mother had not lasted long when she had died soon after, but he had faced the elder relations with courage, and they had determined to put this young upstart in his place. How dare this stripling, not yet a legal adult in their closed society, dare to believe he could dictate terms to his elders and betters? If not for Gabriella, his gypsy saviour, he might have found himself stripped of his wealth and inherited title. As it was he had been disowned by the family, and few of their number dared to associate with him which, he had to admit, hurt a great deal. He had been raised to the importance of Family, and their disgust in his chosen lifestyle and sexuality was a wound far from healed by the time now passed.

Why was it that Kushrenadas were destined to become leading politicians and world shakers? What was wrong with him taking up employment, to the benefit of the entire ESUN that did not involve sprouting pompous speeches that said very little but sounded grand and far seeing? Not for him the political way of life, though he did admit he found himself amid political circles all too often, but in those cases it was weeding out the dangerous elements. It was fortunate that to date, he had not come face to face with the need to oust a family member engaged in nefarious doings.

"How unfortunate." He rolled the cup, gently, delicately rolling the crema to stir the aroma to life, and inhaling it deeply.

Chang actually blinked, in shock he presumed, and stared. The often volatile Chang Wu Fei had been known to enter into verbal tirades for far less reasons than his seeming disinterest in the matter of murder. It was rather astonishing, considering certain past exchanges that he finally seemed to have succeeded in shocking the man into silence. Well what did Chang expect?

He was jealous. Chang had a life beyond the work they shared, and he could not help the jealousy that was most unbecoming for a man of his upbringing. The man had a wife to go home with each night, and a family support structure that extended throughout the entire ESUN. He had a loving wife who was just as temperamental on occasion as the volatile telekinetic, and Sally challenged him frequently, never taking a back seat in the relationship. Chang had a reason to immerse himself in getting the job done so that he could go home to enjoy relatives who cared, his family home and wife, and the prospect of future children.

Jealousy was so unbecoming, but he was only human and he was very tired of being alone. He had a home, a loft conversion that was exquisitely comfortable, but disturbingly empty of what he needed the most. Family. His extended family had made it plain he was an outcast, and his influence over their heirs was not to be tolerated, and he was no longer welcome in their social circle. While he was not eager to return to their good graces it was lonely in his exile, and he did not like it. He was alone and likely to remain alone, unless he could find a mate for both his mind and body to take comfort in.

Did Chang have to enjoy his work so much he considered it odd, and even insulting, that his partner had a differing view? He enjoyed his line of work but they would get a far better result out of him, and no doubt Chang would be happier in his changed attitude, if they would give consideration to the needs of his Talent. He objected to being seen as little more than a human barometer for something as common as crowd control. There were lesser talents more than capable of fulfilling that need to work with the riot squads. He felt that all too often his talents were wasted.

Chang was a high level psychokinetic who fell just short of being rated as Prime classification for his kinetic ability, but his moderate telepathic receiving function elevated him almost to the status of a Prime. Such skills were in demand in many fields, and required their own considerations be met by their mutual employers. He had no problem with his partner's special requirements, though Chang and too many others, seemed not to understand how dangerous it was to ignore the potential hazards of his own much more sensitive telepathic and empathic abilities from overloading.

The mid level receiving telepathic abilities of Chang were closely monitored, as he was still young enough to develop a sending function to make him a fully functioning telepath. His telekinetic abilities were his greatest strength, and coupled with the added flexibility of his partial telepathy and a mind that was analytical and sharp, he deserved his respectable monthly pay check. Chang did not have the same problems of sensitivity and overload concerning his ability and work that Treize needed to deal with on a daily basis.

He liked Chang, but the man could be a frightful prude and was perhaps more of a snob than almost any of the aristocrats Treize had grown up with. Much as he liked the man and respected him for his abilities and dedication, there were limits to his ability to tolerate certain behavioural patterns, and blind obedience to the dictates of duty were right on that line of contention. He had already defied the traditions and duties that Kushrenadas had been slaves to for hundreds of years, and he was not about to become a slave to a new set of duties. He had rights and he would just have to learn to exercise them. Chang clearly did not understand that he had taken about as much abuse of his talent and nature as he would tolerate, without demanding leave in a rather dramatic fashion. He would try just once more to make his point before he took legal steps to assert his rights.

"Unfortunate?"

"Yes. How unfortunate. It is unfortunate that someone has died, and not from natural causes, else why would you need my humble talents? It is unfortunate that I have half a cup of coffee left, and that I intend to finish it. It is unfortunate that the Chief will need to wait an extra five minutes to brief me, because of said coffee. It is unfortunate for all concerned that I am in a bitch of a mood."

"Well, you have the last part right." Chang studied him with narrowed eyes, taking note of the tell tale lines about the sapphire eyes, of the drawn look and shadows under those fiery sapphire pools that so calmly met his gaze. "You need a rest."

"I do not need a rest." The gentle emphasis on the word 'rest' caused his partner's eyebrows to elevate, and he shrugged elegantly. "What I am entitled to, and what I actually need, is exactly what I am not getting. I need a vacation, Chang, not a rest. I need to get away from riots, murders and drug busts. I need time away from scanning conventions and sporting events, and I especially need to be away from irate screaming women who think that their every word is law, and that I am placed at their disposal twenty-four hours a day, and seven days a week."

Chang pursed his lips and considered the russet-haired man dressed in the impeccably designed deep blue silk suit nursing that ridiculously small cup of coffee. The entire tirade had been uttered in the same calm and controlled tone he had heard Kushrenada use, time and again, to order a cup of coffee. It took a great deal to make Treize Kushrenada lose his control, but it did not take all that much to annoy him, and what he was sensing now was not annoyance. He had the sudden impression that he was treading on a tightrope.

"If you have intentions of saying that to Commander Une, I will thank you to make certain I am out of the building first."

"One endeavours to please, though no guarantees are being offered." He sipped at the coffee which had cooled more than he liked, but it was the principle of the matter that dictated he sip and take his time. A little cold coffee could be endured if the sacrifice produced results. "So then, what is the nature of the crisis?"

The unspoken 'this time' hung in the air between them, and after a moment Chang had the grace to sit down and not glance at his watch. The aristocrat before him sipped delicately at the cooling coffee and watched him with cool blue eyes that could be described as being frosty. He knew his partner well enough after working with him for two years to know when it was not going to be worth the effort to push.

In his view Treize was usually an impeccably polite and helpful individual, though occasionally he was prone to odd periods of minor rebellion. He had to be honest and admit to himself that these rebellious periods usually revolved around a heavy workload. Psychics of the calibre and abilities of Treize Kushrenada were rare, and their mental sensitivity required certain privileges be met. Privileges such as a shielded office no one was permitted to enter without a specific invitation, where he could gain some respite from the constant pressures of the active, and subconscious minds, of his workmates and their clients. The man had to deal with a constant overload of input when he worked, and very little in the way of shields could be employed if he was to work to his best abilities. It had been a particularly nasty and sordid case they had put the finishing touches to this morning, and he supposed he could understand why Treize felt the need to demonstrate some degree of rebellion.

It was almost a foregone conclusion that Treize was not going to enjoy performing the duty Commander Une was intending to push onto him. Chang expected their Commander could expect a verbal protest, and perhaps a not too subtle reminder of the limitations and conditions contained within his contract. Conditions that he admitted were in breach of the agreed upon levels for the length and duration of his working days, and the Agency was certainly in breach of the agreed upon amount of rest days allocated between each case requiring deep level work. That Treize was well within his rights to take the matter to heads higher than that of their Commander was not in doubt. Taking it before Une would most likely engender a grunt to acknowledge his point, and thereafter she would stand her ground and ignore the matter. It had happened before.

There was going to come a day when Treize would not tolerate that disregard, and if he brought the other Primes into the matter it would mean the end of Commander Une's career. Some days Chang could not understand why she pushed the man so far.

"It is a delicate matter."

One eyebrow, delicately forked at the end, arched elegantly but he remained silent, again taking a sip of his coffee and his eyes flicked quickly over the patrons of the café. Chang sighed and acknowledged with a faint nod the silent demonstration of how many people there were not in the café, but he was not inclined to discuss confidential matters in public places. No one was seated close enough to Treize's chosen out of the way table to have a chance of overhearing their conversation, but there was more than eavesdroppers to worry about. The possibility of another psychic being in the area and capable of reading him, if not Treize, existed, and therefore he would not discuss confidential matters. Treize knew this only too well, and knew also his strict adherence to regulations.

"It always is a delicate matter."

The droll response was accompanied by yet another sip of coffee from the ridiculous cup. "I wish you luck playing the genteel rebel with Une. When I left to find you she was not in a particularly good frame of mind."

"Commander Une is never in a particularly good frame of mind at this time of the month."

Chang's jaw dropped and his obsidian eyes widened in total disbelief. For a moment he tried to speak, and performed a commendable imitation of a gold fish, before snapping shut his mouth. It took precious seconds before he could gather his wits enough to stand in a jerking movement far from his usual grace, and stab a finger toward the sidewalk.

"I will pretend you never said that, and I seriously suggest you finish that toy cup of coffee you are babying and get your butt back to the office, before Commander Une decides to send a Sweeper team to gather you in."

Oh, he had stuck a nerve there. Chang was always uncomfortable to even oblique mentions of women and their personal bodily functions, a matter he exploited shamelessly when the man annoyed him. To say that he was annoyed by the agent's attitude and his references to a Sweeper team forcing him to comply with the summons was an understatement.

"I would like to see them try." He purred, eyeing Chang over the rim of the cup with a smirk and a look that said he truly would welcome the publicity, and he would ensure it would be messy enough to engender a great deal of publicity.

The agent huffed and forced himself to calm down. He should have recognized the signs when he first entered the café, and approached this matter with more care. Unlike his own contract Kushrenada was on a private contract. An elite graduate from the Psionics Institute who, owing to his private wealth, had managed to stay clear of contractual obligations to the government sponsored institute in exchange for advanced training in his specialty Psionic field.

Wu Fei had no family or personal wealth to fall back on, and was required to serve in the agency as an agent and consultant for a period of ten years to pay back his government sponsored tuition and training fees. He was accustomed to being ordered around and expected to appear at the drop of a hat, but Treize was an independent agent who was well within his rights to tell Commander Une, and the Agency as well as the Psionics Institute itself, where to go on a dark night and in inclement weather.

"Treize, if you are spoiling for a fight don't use me as your scapegoat. Take it up with Une and her legal team. I am only doing my job."

He sighed, glancing into his coffee cup and considering whether to continue to make his point, or if he had succeeded. The coffee was practically cold and he hated cold coffee. He was aware that Chang no doubt thought he was behaving like a child, and it was certainly not his partner that he was upset with. His eyes flicked to his watch and he set the cup aside. The time he had allocated for this diversion had expired, and at this time he was not prepared to break the exact letter of his contract. He would be very careful to keep to his agreement. Fuel for the fire he might yet need to ignite if Commander Une was cautioned over her overuse of his talents.

He was not in desperate straights at this time, but there might come a time when she needed him to be clear headed and sharp on a vital case. If she did not back off and stop wasting him on crowd control when there were lesser talents more than capable of fulfilling the need, then she faced a situation when he was not going to be available when he was needed the most. He could feel the first warning signs, and while he was not in danger of immediate overload he, had no intentions of pushing his envelope. If he had to have the Commander reprimanded then he would have no compunction about doing so.

"The matter will be raised with Commander Une, you may be assured of that. Your wife can also expect a visit from me sometime this week for an analysis to be made." He could not mistake the sudden alarm in those dark eyes. Chang knew how serious he was if he was going to see the Medical Officer. "I am quite serious in my concerns. I can feel the first signs of trouble, Chang and I will not go beyond a certain point, and Une had better realize that. I will not place you or other agents at risk from me because she is being her usual bitchy self where I am concerned. If she breaks any more of the clauses in the contract I will be forced to take measures."

"Why tell me?"

He stood and moved away from the table with a small knowing smile. "I tell you because you will talk to Sally and inform her of everything I have said to you, and you have my permission to inform her of every word we exchanged. She will have a discreet word in Une's ear, and if the woman has any sense she will back off and give me the time I need to settle myself."

Chang snorted softly. Kushrenada knew him only too well, and the man respected his wife. Sally was the heart and soul of his family, and just recently they had passed the last of the medical and genetic scans they had been required to have performed and were waiting for word on the final clearance for them to begin a family. He so wanted children with the blonde haired woman who had driven him out of his introspection, and brought him to a new understanding of what it was to be alive.

Sally was a receiving, higher than average Empath, with a linked Healer's talent. Sally Po, now Sally Chang, had risen to the rank of Chief Medical Officer for the Agency. Her psychic skills, coupled with his own fields of expertise, were in demand within the ESUN, and there was little doubt in his mind they would be given permission to breed a new generation of strengthened psychics.

Treize was wise in going to his wife if there was any concern with his safety to work with other agents, or if his own personal safety was in doubt. His wife, in her capacity as Chief Medical Officer, had the final say in the use of the Talented agents at the disposal of the Agency, and in the event of a threat to the health of the Talents body and, or, mind she had the right to veto any choice of agent that Commander Une might make. If she judged Treize Kushrenada to be at risk, either physically, psychologically or psychically, then no amount of arguing or demanding on Une's part would see Kushrenada working, until his stress levels dropped appreciably. A discreet word by Sally to the Commander to back off and stop pushing the man so hard would be far preferable than having Kushrenada bring in the lawyers and threaten a law suit, or criminal negligence, against the Commander.

"It is highly possible should the Chief Medical Officer suspect you are at less than peak efficiency, she might be inclined to choose to have a word with your Commanding Officer. May we now return to the office for the assignment briefing?"

"Why Wu Fei, whatever is keeping you?"

t.b.c.

Karina Robertson 2006


	2. Chapter 2

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 2/??

Author: Karina

//…// Thoughts

+/.../+ Telepathy

Chapter Two

The main operations center for the Agency was situated in the busy heart of the down town district, and was singularly unremarkable amid the towering forest of concrete, steel and glass. It was just another building reaching for the sky amidst so many others gathered together in a tight area earning astronomical rents for office space that always seemed in demand. By the very nature of the work carried on within its walls, the building needed to be nondescript and forgettable amid the hub of the city, and its designers had accomplished that feat right down to the faux marble facing of the two man security desk in the lobby, where all persons entering must report before proceeding into the building itself.

Two older gentlemen, appearing to be on the verge of retirement, could be found seated at the security desk through the day, both with dark hair gone grey and one with a jagged scar marring his left cheek. Clad in their dark blue uniforms with the security badge on prominent display they were exactly what one would expect to find in the lobby of a busy down town building, though it might be remarked by one or two persons that they had nice smiles. Their presence had proven remarkable only to one efficiency expert brought in to streamline operations at the complex, who determined the older gentlemen should be retired and replaced by the now in vogue trend toward handsome young men and women, who could have been at home on the covers of fashion magazines.

His report on this recommended change when delivered to the Operations Commander of the Agency had engendered a polite refusal, no explanations given, which in turn had seemed to annoy the efficiency expert. His personal visit to discuss the matter with the Operations Commander had resulted in her informing him that the current trend toward young and gorgeous annoyed the hell out of her, and to please leave her to her work. His resulting complaint to those higher in placement within the agency, and their polite enquiry to the Commander, had resulted in the efficiency expert finding himself nose to nose with a somewhat annoyed OC. Commander Une, in a low and sweetly dangerous voice, that her agents knew to fear, had cut him off mid word into his opening gambit on his professional superiority of knowledge in the fields of efficiency and aesthetics.

"You find me a sexy pair of agents who are fully trained in security protocols at level 10, and who register at Level eight or higher in dual pyrokinetic and telekinetic abilities, with above level seven telepathic send and receive functions between them, and I'll consider replacing my security team."

The affronted consultant had protested to her superiors, and curiously enough, departed for another contract the same day. Feedback from the executives at the top of the pinnacle to their Operations Commander had resulted in the promise of a pay rise, and Commander Une had surprised her day shift lobby security agents with gift baskets full to the brim with expensive chocolates and delivered personally. Ignoring their stunned and questioning looks, the Commander had offered a sunny smile and returned to her office.

That particular day was made even more remarkable in the memory of those fortunate enough to be at the operations center, in that not a single agent in the entire building could recall having heard the Commander raise her voice above a pleasant, indeed almost girlish, murmur. The staff in the operations office had tiptoed around all day in mounting dread that the 'something' that was wrong might break over their heads. By morning of the next day the Commander was, with a great deal of relief, found to be her usual self, and the eerie events of the previous day was put down to being a fluke and happily forgotten by everyone. It was a notable fact that in two years no efficiency consultants had visited the Agency.

Chang Wu Fei was only too aware of the man who walked at his side as they passed through the sliding doors and entered the lobby. He had been largely silent since they had left the café, and Chang was wondering if the telepathic empath was still upset with him. He nodded in recognition to the security guards who watched them approach and received their passes to enter deeper into the agency in silence, swiping them through a scanner and acknowledging the waves toward the elevators with a brief nod.

They must have looked an unusual pair, he mused, though they were familiar enough around the halls of the Agency. Treize towered over him, his six foot tall and broad-shouldered frame well above his own diminutive height and slight form. The man had looks and charisma enough to grace any model agency's books, but such a thought as to sell his looks to earn a living would never have crossed that aristocratic mind. Sometimes Chang could not understand his partner. Why such a man would be working for a wage, even if it was a rather high wage, and not living off of his old family money and investments and enjoying the frivolous life style of the idle rich was beyond him. Although when he thought about it, it was far more likely the man should have gone into politics, or ruled his old family estate with all the arrogance of a feudal King.

For all of his privileged background and exclusive education Chang admitted Kushrenada was not hard to work with. Admittedly the man had his own rather unique foibles, but it was a simple truth that everyone had their eccentricities and particular style of doing things. From what he had heard of some of the other Telepathic Empaths of Prime status and their eccentricities, he had to admit that Treize could almost be considered 'ordinary' in comparison. While it was true that Kushrenada had more than his fair share of wealth, position and talent you could not go past the fact that the man was brilliant. He was one of the twenty individuals found in the entire Earth Sphere to hold a dual telepathic and empathic talent in the Level Ten range that marked a Prime in both fields. That was remarkable enough, but the true distinction was he was one of the nine of those twenty individuals who were considered to be sane enough not to require isolation in a mental institution.

Kushrenada was very erect in his stance and graceful in his stride, and Chang found he did not envy the man the stares he attracted as they crossed the faux marble lobby. To the L5-born agent it seemed someone was always watching the man at his side, appreciating his looks even if they did not know the talents that attractive, and all too often arrogant, package concealed. There was desire, jealousy, curiosity, even hate in the eyes that followed them, and he was thankful he was not an empath and required to shield at all hours of the day and night to escape the onslaught of that emotional barrage.

// I must speak with Sally before I depart this evening, and warn her in an official capacity he will be visiting her through the week, and that he is possibly not going to be in the best of moods. It is always the empaths and the receiving telepaths who are at the most risk, and the more talent they have the greater the danger they are in. Overload of their senses is a very real risk, and if they are not caught early in childhood and trained to shield, all too easily they succumb to the chaos that is the human mind of their neighbours and go insane. I suppose that is the reason why five of the nine functioning sane Primes in the dual fields of Telepathy and Empathy are aristocrats, or from wealthy backgrounds. They come from families with sufficient money and contacts within the industry to have their children trained as soon as the talents display. The earlier it can be detected the better chance the child has of becoming a functioning adult, instead of an overloaded burned out vegetable … or insane killing machine intent on stopping the 'noise' at any cost. If the government does not soon pass that Bill we will have no hope of saving another generation of empaths from the asylum or suicide.//

The proposal now before the Earth Sphere Unified Nations council for discussion would, if it was passed into law, make it compulsory for all children above the age of ten be tested for active Psi ability, be they colony-born or Earth-born. At two yearly intervals every child should be subjected to a set examination to detect for usable psionic ability until reaching the age of nineteen. Most ability manifested with the advent of a young body into adolescence, when hormones released in this volatile time were known to trigger psychic incidents and development. The consensus was that an adolescent was easier to pick up as having psychic potential than a younger child, although there were some notable exceptions to that general rule. Some children did awaken to their talent at a younger age, and these prodigies too must be nurtured for the good of all.

The World Health Organization and the mammoth Psionic Institute aimed to have all psychics registered and monitored for their future development, and for the safety of psi and non-psi alike. An untrained psychic with a high level of ability was a danger to themselves and to everyone around them. Some psychics were more dangerous than others without meaning to be, and to avoid disasters such as had occurred in the past the W.H.O. and the Psychic Institute had joined forces to lobby for an official register and government backed training program.

Every year there were fires started by unsuspecting emergent pyrokinetics which, thankfully, were mostly small instances, but in the last decade there had been three notable cases where fires had caused hundreds of thousands of credits worth of damage to city coffers. The resulting furore after the confirmation of the use of pyrokinetics by emergent teens and pre-teens had insurance agencies screaming that something had to be done.

//It is hard to believe that only two generations ago the existence of psychic potential was largely denied by the governments of the Earth and Colonies, and whispered about in secret by the common people. The Freak syndrome led most psi's to resist their abilities and wall them up behind strong barriers, and all too many of the sensitive empaths and telepaths would end up in mental institutions, where they really were driven insane. In just two generations our world has been turned around, and the very face of the planet has been changed by training the talented and making fair use of abilities, instead of exploiting us or locking us away.//

He dragged his thoughts away from considering the state of the world with a final thought that he hoped those lobbying the Council might succeed in their attempts to have the bill pass into law. It would not be so easy to enforce, he knew that, but in a generation or two they would have ironed out the difficulties, and it would be second nature to have children tested for useable ability.

Beside him Kushrenada growled softly and Chang glanced at him to note the expressionless face and followed his gaze across the wide lobby. It was most unusual for Treize to react in such a manner, but Chang could not resist the smirk when he noted what Treize was watching. Or rather who. That his partner disapproved would be a little bit of an understatement, but Chang knew him to be a man who did not take well to the sexual antics of the young and, in his view, foolish.

The sight of Dorothy Catalonia shamelessly flirting with Christopher Walker by the east bank of elevators was pretty much guaranteed to draw a reaction from the Prime, and there was nothing approving in the glare he directed at the pair. Catalonia was a talented telekinetic who just happened to be a cousin of the aristocrat, and he did not approve of her flirtatious ways or, Chang suspected, her position at the Agency. He supposed Treize considered such behaviour to be common and uncouth, though to Wu Fei's knowledge Dorothy had never taken the flirting beyond the initial playful 'are you interested' stage.

As far as Chang could see the girl was simply enjoying herself after having won her freedom from the clutches of her clinging olde world aristocratic family, much as Treize had done some years before. Wu Fei knew for a fact it was Treize who had been Dorothy's inspiration, and given her the vision of escaping the net of tradition that was near stifling in the European Sector nobility. The younger generation of aristocrats, seeing that one of their number had succeeded in escaping the family coils, seemed determined to rebel in growing numbers against the traditional moulds that had ensnared their kin for generations.

A great many of these young aristocrats were proven to have psychic potential, and received private training from the best tutors the ESUN had whilst within the influence of their families. On winning their independence they were generally offered lucrative contracts and positions by many companies who saw the benefits of such talents at their disposal, and ties to the wealth and particularly influence that went with the family names. At this time there was a fad on hiring telepaths and empaths to bolster business and political office staff, and any young aristocrat who struggled free was snapped up greedily.

"Give it a rest, Treize. Chris is a good man and is not prone to casual relationships, nor is she a fool and you know it. She knows just how far to go and when to stop."

The Duke resisted the urge to snarl, recalling where he was and that he had a reputation to uphold. It simply would not do to have everyone aware of his reaction, and at some point in the future he was going to need to have a serious discussion with his cousin on the dos and don'ts within polite society. Dorothy might have left the world of the sheltered family behind her, but that was no reason to bring her reputation into disrepute for the sake of a little fun.

"It is not Christopher Walker that rouses my concern. Dorothy has always enjoyed living on the edge, and her penchant for wanting more than she has, or rightfully has earned, will need to be watched. She has always sought out adventure, seeking a hint of danger to spice up her life. Freedom from the family strictures I fear will see her overstep her mark."

"Perhaps what you say is a true and fair assessment, but I have to ask if you wish her to be confined under the same thumbs as once controlled you? You escaped that lifestyle, is it so strange that others too wish freedom from mouldy walls and parental disapproval? Dorothy will receive adventure enough as a member of the Agency once she is fully trained as an agent, and that is months away. Probation and training will see her disciplined or she will be packed off back to the family halls quickly enough. As she is still confined to the training barracks at night and under observation through the day, I do not see that she can get up to much in the way of mischief. Rest your concerns; we have other matters to worry about."

//Ah, Chang you are so innocent. 'Confined to the training barracks'. 'Not get up to much in the way of mischief'. // Treize smirked, looking rather like the cat that swallowed the canary and got away with the kill. "My dear Sir, you just do not know Dorothy."

Flashing the man a glare for the saccharine tone of his voice Chang led the way past the flirting young couple, thankful Treize said nothing as they passed by and Dorothy had sense enough to contain herself while Treize was in her immediate vicinity. He would die of embarrassment if the vivacious blonde should tempt fate by annoying her cousin deliberately in full view of the lobby. He presumed it might be considered a sign of her survival skills that she was notably silent as they passed.

The bank of elevators at the far end of the lobby was under heavy security surveillance, though there was no outward sign of this scrutiny. The trio of elevators could only be entered by select individuals, those who worked there full time and the transient agents who were highly enough placed to warrant personal interviews with the Operations Commander. The staff that worked on the sealed tenth floor of the building all carried computer chips inserted into the flesh of their necks, behind the left ear. If you did not have the chip the doors would not even open for you, unless you were with a chipped individual and had been granted temporary access as registered with the security department. These three elevators were capable of reaching only the one floor, and were a sealed unit with no stops possible in transit between the lobby and the Operations Administration Offices.

"Have you regained your senses yet?" Chang queried as the doors swished open to admit them. He placed himself near the access panel and swiped his identity card through the appropriate slot in the wall's security monitor. "Are you willing to be sensible?"

"I do not make a habit of losing my faculties." Came the droll return. "Not even when I drink."

Treize settled himself on the far side of the elevator and watched the activity taking place in the lobby, while he waited for Chang to clear the security protocols.

A very ungracious snort from the irritated agent responded as the scanner panel flashed green, focusing Chang's attention on the matter at hand.

"REQUEST OPTICAL IDENTIFICATION SCAN." The computer's voice response unit filled the elevator in a reasonably good facsimile of dulcet feminine tones.

Wu Fei leaned forward slightly and a green laser lanced from the wall to capture his right eye. He resisted the urge to blink until the light winked out, and without waiting for confirmation of his identity he moved aside to permit his partner to take his place.

"IRIS SCAN CONFIRMED. WELCOME AGENT CHANG. REQUEST IDENTITY

DATA CARD."

Treize stepped up to the panel and swiped his card through the scanner as he did so squashing the irritation he felt for having to suffer through this daily ritual. All of the information stating his identity was contained in the chip inserted behind his ear and on his identity card, and this routine annoyed him for being a waste of his precious time.

"REQUEST OPTICAL IDENTIFICATION SCAN."

The laser flashed as Treize leaned closer to the unit, and he resisted the urge to flinch away as it targeted his eye. Iris scans annoyed the hell out of him and he admitted they probably always would. His experience as a child with a malfunctioning laser unit had required he undergo regeneration and a professional Healer's attention for all of a year to restore his eyesight.

"IRIS SCAN CONFIRMED. WELCOME MR. KUSHRENADA. COMMANDER UNE IS EXPECTING YOU."

Chang snorted in disgust but refrained from commenting. He was far from amused by the computer's distinction between himself and Treize. He was a government sponsored graduate

from the Psychic Institute and therefore was required to pay back in work the expenditure the government had outlaid to have him trained to his full potential beyond the level of tuition his clan could afford. His Clan Elders had been eager for him to complete his training, as successful completion amounted to an elevation of prestige for the Clan in having produced a near prime talent psi.

At the completion of his training program he had been assigned to work that debt off at the Agency, and while he was both pleased and proud of the work he performed it, annoyed him that he was Agent Chang and his partner was Mr. Kushrenada. The difference in status, of course, was that his partner was not a government sponsored psychic and therefore was treated to a higher level of honor. It was both discriminating and insulting in his view, but it was a distinction his partner had not asked for and was therefore not his fault, so Wu Fei refrained from making comments. After all, the fault lay with the system they lived under and neither of them could do anything about it. Wealth had always had its privileges.

"You still have not told me what this is all about." Treize prompted as the elevator doors slid shut enclosing them in the wood panelled box that tended to make him feel rather claustrophobic.

"Perhaps that is because I know little more than you about what is happening. To warrant this summons so soon after completing the last case, means this case could no doubt be described as being odd, urgent, and almost certainly politically sensitive. It will be high profile else why call us in ? It is not my place to question Commander Une, but I do know there is a body involved and that the ESUN Security Agency brought the matter to the Agency."

"You don't know what we will be investigating, but you know all of this because …?"

There was barely any sign that the elevator was moving, so smooth and quiet were the hydraulics.

"When the Commander summoned me Heero Yuy was with Une and I chanced to overhear mention of a corpse before I entered the office. Then I was dispatched to fetch you."

"I am not a stick, nor are you a dog Chang, and I will thank you to remember that. I do not need fetching."

Wu Fei smirked but otherwise might not have heard the comment, which he did not think quite qualified as a complaint. It made his day when he managed to worm his way under his partner's ever so cool exterior and score at worst an annoyance, and at best a betrayal of that almost unflappable persona. He admitted that he liked the man, but there was no getting away from the truth that they came from two separate walks of life, and he would never forget the gulf that lay between them. A character fault with himself, he knew, but it was beyond his control and besides, he enjoyed those admittedly rare instances when he managed to score against the older man, and he thought it worth the wait and effort to achieve no matter how small the victory might be.

Treize ignored the smirk and chose to consider the implications of the presence of Heero Yuy at the Agency. The ESUN Security Agent was one of the few genetically enhanced individuals whose very existence had been contested for almost a century before consent from a ruling Government was garnered for the gene modifications to take place on a viable stored embryo. There were only ten of his kind in the ESUN to date, and they were reared from birth by the Security Agency to serve the needs of the expanding colonies of mankind.

The young man was bred, born and trained to be a elite agent. From the moment of his birth he had been groomed for his place in the world as an adult, and while he might appear to be no more than eighteen years of age he was, in fact, approaching his twenty-second year and had been working as a full agent for the Security Service since his fifteenth birthday. Without a doubt if Yuy was involved in this assignment there would be something seriously political in the wind, or something extremely odd taking place that could dangerously compromise Earth to Colony relationships. Yuy was invariably assigned only to the cases that warranted a delicate touch, and for which his superiors required calm efficiency and the expectation was for a considerable body count of potentially important persons. To his knowledge there was not one case that involved Heero Yuy that did not involve a homicide involving prominent political figures.

"Then without a doubt we can expect to be used to our full potential in the coming days." Treize sighed, far from looking forward to the challenge. //I can just imagine the mess this is going to be and we will have to keep it all out of the media and everyone knows how acute their noses are for detecting any hint of scandal. Well, one more case then, and I will have to insist on time off. I am not inclined to surrender myself to a sanitarium's care for insane psychics any time soon. It remains a very real possibility if I do not get some time to center myself.//

The elevator conveyed them in silence and at express speed to the administration level. It came to a gentle stop, and encouraged them to leave with a melodious chime as the doors opened. Many of the elevators in the building played hideous examples of supposedly popular music, while a few played a reasonable rendition of a more classical style, but Treize found that he preferred the units that were silent and permitted one time to think without distraction.

The low murmur of voices mixed with the chatter of computers and the hum of air conditioning units flooded into the elevator to taunt the ear. Treize winced, not from the volume of noise, but from the certain knowledge that he was going to find someone out in the huge office area that was venting emotionally. He strengthened his shield as he stepped into the office, fortifying his mind's security against more than an emotional verbal rant. Wherever you found people you found psychic 'noise' and the more sensitive you were to that 'noise' the greater the strength you needed to instill in your shields, or go down in a screaming heap of second hand emotions.

It was inevitable with the work expected of the people who worked in the Agency, and in particular the staff working in the Operations Center, that stress levels would be elevated. Most people could not contain the psychic aggravation given off by stress developed over long periods of time. It had been noted that those employed on the tenth floor showed considerably higher levels of stress than was generally found in most administrative offices. The Agency employed a competent team of psychologists and medical staff to monitor these levels, and provisions were in place for the staff to take frequent breaks, a minimum of thirty minutes per day in the gym situated three floors down, and regular periodic holiday breaks. Incidents of forced retirement through poor health due to stress-related issues had become almost nonexistent at the Agency with the introduction of these provisions.

He felt the pressure against his shield before he even cleared the elevator, and refrained from sighing in resignation.

The emotional levels that assaulted his shields were worse than they had been prior to his lunch break, and a glance to his right revealed the closest source of what he could only describe as pure aggression. One of the many secretarial staff whose desk was closest to the elevator was being confronted by a black suited individual who practically had ESUN Security Agency plastered all over him. The man was a government pen pusher, Treize realized, and not a field agent who would have shown more restraint than to wave a folder around in the air in a high state of excitement, and hiss insults at the woman who was beginning to emit some serious aggravation of her own.

Kushrenada snorted in disgust and no small amount of annoyance of his own, and berated himself for that betrayal of his mood at Chang's astonished look. He had reacted publicly to something, and that was not an acceptable risk to his reputation, and ignoring the agents stare he strode toward the far end of the office space. He really must guard himself more securely, he mused, as it was unthinkable that he degenerate into becoming one of these people who allowed their most basic thoughts to be visible to anybody and everybody. Gabriella would take him to task for bringing the repute of Primes into question if he was not careful. Should Chang hear so common a sound from him with any frequency his reputation would be ruined.

Chang lengthened his stride and caught up, none too pleased that he had needed to chance his dignity by coming perilously close to a trot to catch up with the taller man. He was a field agent after all, not a file clerk, and he had his own view of where he fit into the order of things.

"Is something wrong?"

The thick carpet cushioned each foot fall, and potted plants brought green into the work space, but there was no getting away from the fact they walked through a highly efficient office. There were eyes following their every step and they passed three security guards stationed discreetly near the taller greenery within ten paces of the elevators. Treize noted that two of the guards were eyeing off the aggravated ESUN official, who showed no let up in verbally abusing the secretary, and he wondered how long it would be before one of them decided to investigate. It could not be soon enough for his peace of mind.

// Is something wrong? He just had to ask and prove how little he listened, didn't he? Why do you have to be an Empath before you realize just how noisy the human mind is? Even telepaths do not realize the level of noise a person is capable of generating. It's like stereo, the emotions fortifying the thoughts, rounding out the emissions and never bloody shutting up!//

He acknowledged the nods of people they passed and knew they would not expect any idle chitchat. Here work ruled and never stopped. Three shifts worked the administration level and kept the Agency abreast of the affairs of the Earth Sphere, regardless of the hour of the day or night, and the office never closed, working through public holidays and even religious holidays. If you had a problem with the hours of work you simply were not acceptable to the powers-that-be.

"Treize?"

"Of course something is wrong, Chang. I have worked for months without even the grudgingly given two days break, the obligatory pat on the back and the snarky instruction to sleep it off and now, when I think I have cleared up the case files allocated to me so that I can take time off what happens? I get drafted, yet again, because I am apparently invaluable to every case that comes in the door."

Chang blinked, somewhat taken aback by the Prime's response and the inclusion of a word he had assumed Treize would not even know the meaning of. Where and when had Treize found reference to 'snarky', he wondered.

"Just how serious do you think your condition is?"

Teeth ground together in mounting frustration and he did not care that Chang could hear the grind. His dentist would have a fit, of course, if he took that up as a regular habit, but was it any wonder he was frustrated? Had he not already made the seriousness of the situation clear? Frosty sapphire met obsidian and there was no amusement apparent in either of the two men as they glared at each other. Treize paused and faced his partner, meeting his gaze with quiet if chilly dignity and resisted the impulse to rub at his throbbing temples.

"I need to get away from this mental noise pollution and into seclusion soon, Wu Fei, or I will be unable to shield myself adequately in public areas. I have no intention of ignoring this matter until I am pushed too far and have to hand myself over to a psych ward. If I do not get the solitude and the time I need to clear my mind and work on my shields, then a psychiatric ward is exactly where I am likely to end up."

"I will be certain to speak to Sally."

Treize inclined his head slightly to acknowledge the assurance, but otherwise refrained from commenting. Should his warning not be taken he would have no compunction about calling in the other Primes and a veritable army of solicitors on his behalf. He had given of himself time and again to the Agency's needs and it was past time some consideration was given back. Chang moved slightly ahead of him and led the way through the maze of offices and hallways until they reached the glassed in outer office of the Agency's Commander of Operations.

Wu Fei sighed and resisted the urge to do more than roll his eyes in exasperation as they entered the office and their presence was noted by Commander Une's secretary. The woman

perked up immediately, straightening in her seat and in one fluid motion primped her hair, checked her makeup and somehow, Chang had never quite figured out how she did it, thrust her substantial chest into prominence without actually moving. She prided herself on her physical presentation as much as her work, and she was one of the most efficient secretaries in the entire building, her efficiency topped only by the abilities of the secretaries who worked for those above Une in the Agency pecking order.

An attractive dark-haired woman with wide blue eyes that had been described as smouldering by more than one ardent admirer, she had the sexual appetite of a predator. No male was safe in her vicinity and he found her blatant appetite for anything male to be disgusting and in poor taste. She had never displayed subtlety in her attraction for either of them, and she positively drooled when Treize had the misfortune to be requested to attend an interview within the Commander's office.

"Agent Chang, Mr. Kushrenada, so nice to see you again. I'll just inform Commander Une you have arrived." She purred in a melodic, husky voice, and leaned forward to reach for the intercom though it was well within her reach. They both knew her inclination was to better display her chest's attributes.

"Put them back in their cups, Molly and if you're not wearing a bra, get one on. Now make coffee." The crisp voice issued from the intercom as the door to the Commander's office opened in a fluid unaided gesture and Une's voice held no amusement at all. "Get in here, you two. I have more important things to do than wait on you, Kushrenada."

"Don't." Chang was quick to touch his partner's sleeve and whispered to forestall the explosion he expected, and he could not say that he would blame the man for reacting to her insulting tone of voice.

This was too public a place for one of the infamous fights between the Agency's Prime and the Operations Commander to occur. Fleetingly he wondered who the upper floor executives thought might be more expendable should one or the other demand the other's removal. He was looking forward to a volatile interview if Une was opening doors with kinetic strength and insulting the Prime before they were in the same room.

"There is going to be a show down and it will not be pretty." At Chang's raised hand Treize shook his head, forestalling the comment. "Very soon, Chang. Very soon." The low growl was accompanied by a glare that would freeze water, but Treize snapped his mouth shut and his lips firmed into a hard angry line.

"Not here and not now, please. Keep the peace for a while longer and allow Sally to have her say first."

Why he tried to smooth over the friction between the two with Treize he did not understand, as he honestly thought that if it came to one or the other the executive authority would fall in the favour of Kushrenada. Operations Commanders were not as rare as Prime talents after all. He was going to be speaking to his wife as soon as possible in a bid to sort this mess out and spare everyone grief from the fallout of changing someone as highly placed as Une. While she could be a veritable bitch there was no doubt that the woman was masterful in her running of the department.

With something that sounded disturbingly like a cross somewhere between a grunt and a growl, Treize motioned to the open door and followed Chang into the room. The Commander's office was spartanly decorated with no luxuries beyond the huge oak desk dominating the far wall, and the oversized padded leather chair she used. A few filing cabinets along a side wall, a couch that had seen better days along a third, and a computer terminal rising from the desk made up the bulk of the Commander's work environment. There were a few not so comfortable chairs scattered about the room in the event the Commander entertained more than one individual at a time, as she did today, and a water cooler set near the huge picture windows that backed the desks placement.

Commander Anne Une, of the ancient and noble Germanic House of Une, was a woman you could never walk past without noticing. Physically she was more than passing attractive with soft brown hair, usually tightly braided and wound into knots at each ear, and doe soft brown eyes few ever saw without the hard calculation gleaming from their depths, and a determined set to her fine jaw. Chang privately thought she was a very attractive woman, and if she ever learned to relax and leave the office and her responsibilities behind her, she would not lack for male attention. Dressed in a dark blue business suit, the only concession she gave to her femininity was the skirt she had chosen over slacks. Her shoes were sensible pumps, not fashion statements, and about her left wrist she sported a com unit. This woman was never out of touch with her profession.

Chang found himself holding his breath as they entered, fully expecting his partner to snap at their Commander, or for the woman to make another ill considered comment designed to aggravate the Prime. However it appeared the Commander had, at least for now, made her displeasure known in a manner satisfactory to her, and chose to refrain from further comment about their errant Prime's tardy habits.

//One of these days I am going to learn what exactly the problem is between these two. She has had it in for Treize since he began working for the Agency, which was not so long before she was given the position as Operations Commander. He has taken a lot more flack from her than any other agent to my knowledge has had to put up with, and generally he does not complain beyond a snide comment or two. Perhaps she simply does not like men of her own station and background.//

"Take a seat, gentlemen, we have no time to engage in idleness or useless pleasantries. Yuy has presented us with an investigation that is somewhat out of the ordinary, and I have determined that you two are the best suited of my available agents to deal with the matter. It will require both discretion and a deft hand to see to a satisfactory completion, and you have proven capable of both on numerous past occasions."

Two chairs separated themselves from the nearer wall and floated smartly across the room to place themselves, with quick efficiency, before the desk beside the brown-haired agent who watched with cold clinical blue eyes. Chang resisted the urge to glance at the Commander in some surprise, as it was rare for her to display her telekinetic talent so openly. Yuy watched the flight of the chairs impassively; unmoved by the display and willing to wait for sociable greetings to be exchanged when they left the aggravating woman, who had clearly been far from pleased to see him.

Chang took the seat beside Yuy, nodded briefly to him in greeting, and settled to face the woman who seemed determined to glare holes in the file spread open before her. He flicked a quick glance at the folder, curious to see what he might as Treize settled into the seat beside him and had just enough time to glimpse a photograph of a corpse before Une's hand came down and tilted the contents of the folder up and out of his line of sight.

//Someone is definitely dead. No surprise there.// He reflected.

"As yet he is unidentified and duly designated a John Doe." Une began, placing a morgue shot of an adult male on the desk for them to see. "He was found stuffed in a refrigerator by the housekeeper for a shared apartment at the accommodation dormitories of the Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University complex, just outside of the city. As you are no doubt aware, the Tsuberov Institute is government-sanctioned and financially backed by government and private business concerns. It is primarily a private institute for parapsychic research, training and education, and its reputation is exemplary throughout the Earth Sphere. Tsuberov rivals the Psychic Institute for prestige, and its student body consists of the children of the rich and famous. As you might expect with the importance of its students and their parents political or business influences, the institution has an exemplary security system and some of the best security personnel to be had in the Earth Sphere. In fact the Board of Governors for the university prided themselves on the safety they can provide for their clientele's children, and make it one of the biggest draw cards to attract said clientele."

Une produced a series of aerial views of a large campus and buildings surrounded by extensive parklands, and a few shots of old Georgian style buildings. The final photograph she placed on the desk was of an open refrigerator with the body of the murdered man folded neatly within.

"As you can see our John Doe fitted neatly into the refrigerator. So neatly did he fit that I understand it was not an easy matter to remove him. Forensic tests are still underway, as is a post-mortem. He had been in the unit overnight, no longer and the consensus appears to be that he was a burglar."

"A burglar? In a university dorm?" Chang shook his head slightly at the very idea.

"I will remind you that Tsuberov is a complex catering to the educational needs of the children of the ultra rich and famous, Mr. Chang. Think about it." Une sighed, rubbing at the bridge of her nose.

"Our investigations reveal there have been a series of minor break-ins over the past two weeks, which are being investigated by the onsite security department." Yuy offered. "Nothing much has been stolen, but a few reasonably expensive pieces of jewelry has gone missing. The security on campus has not been able to track the stolen items or detect how the thefts have been accomplished."

"Why call us?" Kushrenada questioned, studying the photograph of the body stuffed into the refrigerator with interest.

The size of the unit looked to be only slightly larger than what he would term a bar fridge, and fitting a human body into it would have taken time, and should have involved amputation of a limb or three. Unless the body was of a particularly short and slender individual and even then he would have expected a little nipping and tucking would be required.

"While Tsuberov is an elite institution space there is at a premium. The majority of the dormitory rooms are shared by two to five students in a suite. The layouts of the suites give a communal kitchen and lounge area, but the bedrooms are separated and students sleep one to a room. The students assigned to this particular suite have been on a trip to L4 for the past three weeks, and prior to that they were on L3 for a week. The excursion was designed to orient them to employment opportunities for high level psychics, workplace safety procedures and responsibilities associated with contractual obligations following the conclusion of their term at the university, in the case of one of the three that will be at the end of this year. The suite where John Doe was found houses three individuals, one of whom is the reason for our involvement in the matter. The ESUN Security Agency and the powers that be above us agree the matter must be handled discreetly, delicately and quickly." Une leant back in her chair and considered the three men.

Yuy opened the folder he had been holding below the level of the desk and leaning forward in his seat placed three photographs on the desk, lining them up side by side as he named the individuals in question.

"Duo Maxwell, a sponsored exchange student listed as originating from L2. His tuition and expenses at Tsuberov have been picked up by the Sweepers, who have pre-contractual agreements in place for his services. His employment is guaranteed when he leaves the University complex by that organization, not unusual as the Sweepers have sanctioned two other students at the University."

Chang looked with interest at the photograph of the boy in question. He looked to be around eighteen years old and had a rather winning smile plastered on his heart-shaped face, and the most amazing feature of the boy was the long braid of rich dark chestnut hair held negligently in one hand as he posed for the official school photograph.

"Zechs Merquise. His tuition was paid for by a as yet anonymous benefactor. Should it be required we may need to get a court order to learn who has enough of an interest in him to fund his placement at Tsuberov and not take the effort and expense of employing a pre-contractual agreement. His background is of no more interest than Mr. Maxwell's. Both were orphaned at early ages and placed as wards of the state, Maxwell on his native L2 and Merquise as a citizen of the European sector of Earth. How this one picked up a wealthy benefactor we have not as yet determined, and we may need to look into the matter." Une flicked a finger at the second picture.

Treize arched an eyebrow as he studied the picture, noting and admiring, the unusual beauty of the young man. Perhaps a year or two older that Maxwell, with a graceful fall of platinum blonde hair almost as long, and ice blue eyes that stared at the camera with just a hint of unease, as though he had not wished to have his photograph taken.

"Quatre Raberba Winner. Yes, Winner. He is the reason we are involved in this case." Une leaned forward and stabbed a finger at the picture of the blonde boy lying on the desk. "The Winner heir, no less. You can imagine I am sure just how not amused his father will be when he learns of this security breach involving his son's dorm. We need to learn if this was an isolated incident perhaps involving this low level theft taking place at the complex, or if someone may be out to snare the boy, perhaps for ransom. With the importance of the identities that have entrusted their children to this elite school, we can not afford to overlook anything that might be of significance to the investigation. All three boys are due to return from their excursion to the colonies this evening, so I suggest you go to the University and investigate the rooms before they return."

Quatre Winner seemed to be smiling at Treize personally as he studied the picture. It was the kind of pose that he himself had been taught as a child and had become second nature by the time he reached ten. He could just imagine the sheltered upbringing the boy would have had, and how the more open structure of the university would have made him take a deep breath of air. He was surprised the boy had not been placed in a single suite and was permitted to room with two youths who were certainly not in the same social class as the bulk of the university's students.

Une stirred, scowling at the three photographs lined up before the agents. "It is not just that someone we have not yet identified managed to penetrate the security of the University. Our involvement is more for the fact that the perpetrator of the break in was killed during his activities, and stuffed in the refrigerator to delay his body being discovered. You will need to question the housekeeper who found the body during her preparing the suite for the students return. To assist in the investigation the University Governors have cooperated and agreed to move the three to another dormitory suite, and as a precaution I want that suite scanned and a review of security arrangements carried out. Mr. Yuy will liaison between the ESUN Security Agency and yourselves, providing you with all the assistance you might require. The students' belongings are to be transferred between the suites before the shuttle lands at 18:00 hours, and I expect you to have inspected the crime scene prior to that transfer. It is possible that either the thief, or the murderer, may have left some clue to their identities that you might pick up on, Treize, as the Security Agency does not as yet have the benefit of a Prime in your field to call on. Forensics have been through the suite searching for possible genetic evidence that may be to our benefit. I have begun the paperwork to arrange for DNA samples of the three students to be taken on their return to the complex in order to eliminate any DNA samples we take that might belong to them, and samples from the staff who have entered the suite in the last week for any reason will also be arranged for purposes of elimination. I expect to have garnered the appropriate authority by sunset tomorrow with the cooperation of all involved. Questions?"

"Any preliminary autopsy results on the body?" Kushrenada queried.

"You will have that information as soon as I receive it. Yuy's people have the body so we need to wait on their procedures."

"The three students, what are they studying at the University? What are their individual psionic skills, and will there likely be interference from these skills during the investigation?" Wu Fei queried, studying the three photos.

"Winner is a Level ten Empath, already in the range of Prime Empaths, though he needs considerably more training to make that rank, and there would be little doubt that his father has his position as a Prime already detailed. While he is within the Prime ranking requirements for empathic ability he has, to date, only reached Level five rating as a telepath. His rating, I believe, is valid in both send and receiving capabilities and it is doubtful he will reach Prime ranking in the dual field. He is studying business economics and social economics, as well as the history of Earth and Colony relations." Yuy responded. "He is a grade A student and his father has a report on his progress sent to him weekly."

//Poor bastard. Daddy does keep close tabs on him.// Wu Fei motioned in a general wave of the hand at the photos. "The others?"

"Maxwell is studying advanced mechanics, advanced engineering and technical design. His general academic grades are one small point off being classed as A grade, and he is expected to graduate in the top ten in his field. He is being trained to hone and improve a notable telekinetic ability that registers in at Level 8 at this time, but there is a note on his file suggesting he may rate as high as Level 9, considering he initially tested at Level 5 on arrival two years ago. While he is not listed as being expected to make Level 10 and Prime status, he is being closely monitored for development. In addition to the telekinesis he is a sending telepath rated at Level 5, with no receive function as yet detected, and again his talent has markedly improved for the time he has been undergoing training." Yuy flicked the edge of a printout within the file he held on his knee.

Une stared broodingly at the third picture and then straightened in her seat, leaning back and watching her two agents for their reaction.

"Mr. Merquise is a somewhat rarer mix of talent. He is a Level 10 Empath with Level 9 telepathic ability. His send and receive function for both empathic and telepathic ability is fully sensitized, and there is some small indication that he may have a minor 'Finder' tendency developing. The latter ability has been picked up only in the last twelve months, but formal testing has thus far been inconclusive. Considering his age he is considered too old to be developing new psi potential, but it is not unheard of where one or two talents are so high that any minor talent might be overlooked in developing the stronger abilities. He is undergoing testing to determine if this suspected ability can be confirmed and possibly ranked. Even should he only be designated a Level 1 Dowser the fact that he is a tri talent psi, and expected to make Prime level in two of the three fields, will result in him being hot property. By the time he graduates near the end of the year they expect his telepathy to be on par with the empathy and the full Prime designation be applied to him. However, if he is tagged a Dowser he will be required to remain at least another year to develop and train the ability. I have little doubt that should his benefactor decide not to cover the expense of his training that some interested business conglomerate will pick up the bills. He is studying mechanics, mechanical engineering and mechanical design, for which he appears to have a mediocre talent at best. His records clearly state he is not a shining star academically, though he is managing to earn at least passing grades in the basics. He is graded higher in art, design and graphic design. All in all, while he excels in Psi study he is very ordinary academically."

"Winner is being trained to take over Winner Enterprises in the fullness of time, and Maxwell is a Sweeper-sanctioned prodigy, so he will be heading into space on one of the Sweeper ships after graduation. Both are assured of employment in the future and from what you say both excel academically. While it has no bearing on this case I am curious to know what lies in the future for Merquise, if he is mediocre in his studies." Chang mused.

"You are correct in it having no effect on the case, but I would suggest you give some thought to not demonstrating how dense you can be, Chang." Une glared in disgust at her agent. "He's a rated Level 10 Empath, already a Prime talent, though not officially certified as such. His Level 9 telepathic function is projected to reach Level 10 before graduation. A dual Prime Empathic Telepath who from reports appears to be reasonably sane, therefore he will be snapped up and not for any mundane skills. His presence has been kept remarkably low key considering the demand for Prime talents, and now that we know of his existence it is even possible the Agency might bid for his services on his graduation and certification. It would appear from recent reviews that the executive body considers us to be short of such skills."

Treize resisted the urge to bare his teeth at the woman, in what might have been described a snarl more than a grin of sarcastic amusement, and turned his thoughts away from the petty annoyance of her presence to what was suddenly looking to be a case worth his interest. This he had already determined would be his last case until he took care of some much needed maintenance to his stressed shields. Another empathic telepath with skills comparable to his own would no doubt relieve the pressure on him, but he was loath to wish this job on anyone.

//Especially someone fresh out of university.// His eyes caressed the photograph one more time and he was careful not to think how handsome the younger man was, or wonder how they would deal with each other when they met. Suddenly he wanted to meet the man and he determined that if the occasion should arise at Tsuberov, then he would take full advantage of it.

"So in one suite we have two certified geniuses and one academically average, but soon to be ranked Prime Talent. Might they not consider isolating Winner for a time in a single suite?" Chang queried. "It would be safer for him and for the other two students."

Une shook her head in the negative. "In their wisdom the University governors feel that they can maintain a secure environment around the boy without isolating him and causing unnecessary strain. It seems on his return to Tsuberov he will be undergoing a vital stage of his training."

"That could be a mistake. Should there be an incident either of the other two might be placed at risk."

Yuy glanced at Chang and nodded. "My thoughts exactly, but the powers that be want the situation kept as quiet as possible, and they feel that removing Winner from his room would be remarked upon by most of the student body. Should that happen no doubt word would leak about why he has been separated, and parents might lose faith in the institute's ability to guard their offspring."

Une sighed. "The University needs to function with its usual efficiency, as does the research center, and it is felt any additional personnel running around body searching the students and staff is not considered an option. There is also the fact that Winner needs to concentrate on his studies, and it is felt that he will do so better in the company of his dorm mates. We have been instructed to keep this affair quiet, which means we are not to suggest to him, or the boys he shares with, that he is in any danger. What occurred in the unit they shared was an unfortunate coincidence, until proven otherwise."

t.b.c.

Karina Robertson 2006

Authors Notes:

Treize Kushrenada : Level 10 Sending/Receiving Telepath + Receiving and Projecting Empath at Level 10. Prime rated. Agency Operative contracted term of 5 years with 2 years remaining. [25yrs of age Training facility: Psychic Institute Munich Division.

Chang Wu Fei: Level 9 Telekinetic + Receiving Telepath Level 5. Agency Operative contracted term of 10 years with 8 years remaining[22yrs of age Training facility:Psychic Institute Luxemburg Division.

Sally Po [Chang: Level 4 Receiving Empath with linked Healers Ability graded Level 6 Agency Operative-Chief Medical Officer contracted term of 10 years with 6 years remaining. Training facility: Psychic Institute Beijing Division. [23 yrs old

Commander Anne Une: Level 8 Telekinetic. Operations Commander of The Agency. Contracted term of 10 years with 7 years remaining. Luxemburg Division. [22 yrs old.

Dorothy Catalonia: Level 8 Telekinetic. Agency recruit. Contracted term 5 years Training facility: Private tuition with 1 year Psychic Institute for official qualification and certification Luxemburg Division. [19 yrs old

Christopher Walker: Level 9 Telekinetic. Agency Operative. Contracted term of 10 years with 9 years remaining. Training facility Psychic Institute. Washington USA [20 yrs old

Heero Yuy: ESUN Security Agency Elite Operative. Government sanctioned Genetic enhancements performed by Romefeller Genetic Laboratory, Tokyo for adult service as Security Enhanced Operative. No Psychic Talent. Genetic induced enhancements include enhanced Strength, Hearing, Speed and

Olfactory senses. Assigned regularly to liaison with The Agency's psychic agents. [21 / 22 years old

Roland Matthews: Level 8 Pyrokinetic with Level 5 Telekinetic and Level 7 Send and Receive Telepath . Agency Operative. Foyer Security Detail, daytime. Rated Level 10 Security Operative. Psi training facility Psychic Institute Manchester, England. [76 years old

Brian Weiss: Level 8 Telekinetic with Level 7 Pyrokinetic and Level 7 Send and Receive Telepath. Agency Operative. Foyer Security Detail, daytime. Rated Level 10 Security Operative.

Psi training facility Parapsychic Institute, Luxemburg Division [80 years old


	3. Chapter 3

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 3/??

Author: Karina

//…// Thoughts

/.../+ Telepathy

Chapter Three

He had to admit he was impressed by the facilities he had thus far viewed at the complex. Throughout the drive from the main gates to the accommodations sector where the murder had taken place, he had ample opportunity to admire the spacious grounds consisting of neatly trimmed lawns and gracious plantings of trees, shrubs and flower beds. This prestigious complex set outside the precincts of the city itself was very different to the Luxembourg campus of the Psychic Institute where he had received his own training.

The buildings he glimpsed through the trees and bushes offering discreet privacy screening were stately and classical in design. Within these sprawling acres the accommodations sector oozed beauty and grace and echoed less stressful and far more genteel times. He had caught a glimpse of what looked to be a massive sprawling structure of modern steel and glass as they had driven down the steep hill beyond the main gates, and around a sharp bend before passing behind the hill and winding down into the parklands.

Yuy had noted his interest in the modern designed construct of steel and glass and informed them the building was the Parapsychic Investigation Laboratories, where the vast majority of the psychic training procedures undertaken by the students were carried out, and thereafter announced they were headed in the opposite direction, to the accommodations park. The University complex bridged the two areas and was a massive sprawling assortment of buildings within easy walking distance of the particular dormitory they were to visit.

Chang took pleasure in the gentle rolling parklands, the carefully tended lawns with the screening trees ranging from old willows, silver birch, conifers and massive oaks dating from at least a century by their impressive size, to the smaller blooming lilacs, rhododendrons and camellias in clustered beds full of assorted plants. Every bed seemed to have plants in flower, some of exotic shapes and colours and most had stunning feature plants to draw the eye. He decided it would take a veritable army of gardeners to keep these extensive grounds maintained.

The silence in the car was comfortable, and he spent the time noting as many styles of bedding plants as he could. Gardening was a secret passion he rarely could indulge, given the daily routine of his life and the apartment life he endured, but whenever time and opportunity permitted he would visit the public gardens and immerse himself in the beauty of nature. Curving around behind one sprawling house his interest was piqued by the appearance of Buddhist prayer flags, and he suspected the heavy screening of plants might hide an oriental-themed planting, perhaps even a formal Zen garden. If he should happen to have the time he would be interested in finding this place again.

At this time there seemed to be few people moving around the grounds, and aside from the odd bird chirping audible through the cars open window, there was little in the way of sounds to draw his attention. The entire place oozed peace and serenity without being oppressive and annoying, and he wondered if the designers had incorporated subtle sonic emitters within their carefully tended grounds. He had marked a notable difference in the tension within himself and he was not blind to the effects on his partner. The use of subsonic sound to effect change in human emotions was something that had been experimented with for many years, but it was not until the recognition and common use of psychic abilities that the science of sonic audio manipulation had come into its own.

Treize seemed to sigh and relax back into the seat, his eyes were narrowed, lids half closed and the lines of tension seemed to bleed out of his face, making him appear his actual age. Some days the man looked closer to thirty than to his recently acquired twenty five years. The telepathic empath, more sensitive to the aura than he himself as a kinetic, clearly gave his stamp of approval to the carefully maintained psychic aura of the grounds. This place was for the psychically gifted to learn how to live with their abilities and use them to their best advantage, and certain requirements had to be met to cater to the comfort and peculiarities of the students and their talents.

//This is what Treize needs. For him to have relaxed so quickly after entering the grounds they must be making use of sonic emitters generating a relaxing vibration. This is a far cry from the office atmosphere he has existed in for so long but it is more than just restful gardens affecting him. I had presumed he would return to his estates at the first opportunity but perhaps not. He may intend a visit to a relaxation centre first, one that caters to the express needs of telepaths and empaths. There are a few of those where the security would be of an acceptable standard for his Prime status.//

He had not mentioned the Prime's need for space and time to repair stressed shields after leaving Une's office. After all, they did not need Yuy to know that the Prime had problems. The man was observant enough to note there was a high degree of tension between Kushrenada and Une, and courteous enough not to inquire into matters that were of no concern to him. The clash of personalities and the Prime's need for time away from duty was an internal matter, and they needed to sort it out quickly and quietly, and to do that it would be necessary for them to attend to the mystery surrounding the John Doe's death. Treize no doubt intended to solve this matter with all haste, and Chang straightened in his seat as they approached the dormitory block in question and the driver slowed down.

The dormitory proved to be a four-story structure with a Georgian flavour painted in deep cream, with accents of a light mustard shade. It was not a colour scheme he recognized with the period the building echoed, but then the building was not true Georgian and he decided the colours were chosen for a purpose other than to be accurate to a set period of architecture. This entire complex was designed to give off an air of quiet and peace, and the colour scheme was not glaring on the eye and tended to blend into the scenery in a comfortable fashion. Again a concession to offer ease to the psychically aware, particularly to those with augmented vision and the telepaths and empaths of their number, who would be affected by the moods of all persons surrounding them.

Yuy's driver dropped them at the main entrance before pulling away to park the car at the rear of the building, and the ESUN security agent wasted no time leading them up the wide steps and through the open door into the spacious foyer. The classical design of the exterior was echoed in the fine wood panelling, and the highly glossed polished oak floors. A grand staircase spiralled around the foyer in a gentle rising curve that was definitely not Georgian architecture, but again did not jar the eye; rather lead it into the depths of the upper levels in a smooth and gentle sweep. The upper sections of the walls were decorated in flocked wallpaper of deep red, and paintings of forest scenes adorned them as well as a massive framed gilt-edged mirror that took up the majority of the eastern wall's upper surface.

In the grandeur of the building Treize looked extremely comfortable, as though he belonged amid the gilding and wood panelling, while Yuy simply ignored it, apparently determining such details as useless distraction, and marched up to the stairs. Chang glanced around one last time and suppressed a shiver entertaining the uncomfortable sensation the building somehow diminished him, and he followed Yuy to the red carpeted staircase in silence, hoping the upper levels would prove to be less intimidating.

//Intimidating? Daunting. Treize is unaffected and Yuy seems not to notice anything other than the duty of the moment, so is it just me? Perhaps it is merely cultural differences that disturb me. My talent is kinetic, not empathic sensitivity and the building should not bother me. It is different to the world in which I grew up, where the colony is graced with classical Chinese architecture. Perhaps that is the problem. This building makes me feel … small. The sonic emitters are not installed here, I think, which is interesting. I may ask Sally to find out more of those devices as I am certain from Treize's reaction that they are in operation throughout the grounds.//

His diminutive height had not always been a sore point with him. There had been nothing remarkable about his size on L5 where he had been of average stature for his age, and it was not until his family sent him to Earth that he encountered those who commented on his physical stature or lack thereof. He had found himself able to ignore the annoying derogatory comments, and some of those comments had been down right insulting, and only twice during his tenure at the Psychic Institute had he found himself forced to defend his stature against those who considered it amusing to take down the 'little guy with the funny pigtail'. While he had not resorted to abusing his psi talent in either instance, his martial arts training had been more than up to the task of issuing discipline to the ignorant. He had considered the discipline issued to him in turn by his less than amused trainers, following what they termed to be his abuse of privileged training, to be worth the trouble.

Yuy led them up the gently circling staircase, bypassing the landings to the first and second floors and to the third floor landing, then proceeded in silence down the seemingly endless hallway with its classical statues placed at regular intervals and seascape paintings. The dark wood panelling and deep green flocked wallpaper lent an air of classical gentility, and he almost expected to see a maid in a uniform from a bygone century emerge from one of the heavy panelled doors and walk toward them.

Neither Yuy nor Treize seem inclined to comment on the elegance of their surroundings, so he maintained his peace, ignoring his inferiority complex as being unimportant and determining to get past it. It was a character fault he could not afford, and his family on L5 would be dishonoured if he permitted such to affect his performance of his duties. In his line of work, and working for the Agency in particular, he found himself inhabiting the slums of the cities as much as the marble halls of the rich and famous. On more than one occasion he had found himself under his wife's stern gaze, with the admonishment that he 'get over' himself.

He had known the building had been large by its exterior façade, but the interior appeared to make the exterior seem small. He suspected the bulk of the building had been effectively screened by careful positioning and strategically placed plantings. The grandeur gave the building more the appearance of a high class hotel rather than a dormitory block for a university, and he could only wonder at the usual standards of living of the parents of the students who resided here.

Yuy finally halted before an oak panelled door with a brass knob and key pad placed to one side of the frame. He touched the keys in quick succession before he reached to twist the knob and motioned Chang and his partner into the room as the door swung inward.

"So how do the school authorities plan to explain what happened in here?" Chang queried.

Glimpsing the interior of the suite he briefly wished the dorms he had roomed in at the Parapsychic Institute were as comfortable and spacious. He turned his attention briefly to the door, seeking for any sign of a possible forced entry and expected to find exactly what he did … nothing. Yuy or Une herself would have mentioned the means of entry had there been an obvious forced entry. He noted Treize also ran an eye over the door and the electronic lock panel placed discreetly to one side, but then his attention turned to the suite and the open plan lounge.

He sidestepped the corner of a three seat couch and paused beside an armchair, making a mental note that the room was entirely too neat and clean to be the room of a single, let alone a threesome, of normal healthy young males. Perhaps the grandeur of the dormitory tended to intimidate those who roomed here into keeping their rooms neat. He would have expected that to work for perhaps as much as a week before the cleanliness deteriorated into slovenliness, unless regular room checks were carried out.

Glancing quickly around he noted that while the hallway had been decorated in old world traditionalism, the suite itself was decorated in modern design. The couch was positioned to face an entertainment unit that any young man of this day and age would consider necessary to their amusement. A large television console, complete with a video games unit and entertainment package for the playing of movies, including a holographic projector, was packed neatly into an ultra modern designed unit. The entertainment unit was a fixed device with 'Property of Tsuberov University' written in neat gilded lettering, and dominated the wall.

A music system with overlarge speakers and an impressive wattage output, and some modern artwork on the side wall, was flanked by a large lounge chair and potted plant. The floor was of highly polished floor boards with a couple of throw mats to soften the lines of the blue, cream and yellow furniture. Chang hated the colour scheme and the room in general, and determined this was not a room where the students were meant to relax, as everything was far too neat. Notable for its absence was the lack of personal effects of any of the three students, and again he thought of the impression of a comfortable, but entirely impersonal, hotel.

//It could be that it just looks that way because the rooms have been cleaned while they were on the tour. Give them a few days and it could more accurately fit my image of a bachelor pad for young men.//

"Concerning the death itself, I believe the official story is that on a routine security check of the building a security guard had an accident and broke his neck in a fall. The rumour circulating the university is that one of the guards was the thief known to be active here, and he had a fatal accident while engaged in checking out what might be worth stealing in one of the dorms. Another rumour is that a security guard was visiting one of the female students, and slipped while descending a fire escape and broke his neck. It was decided that it would be best not to release the news the body was found in one of the dorms. The housekeeper appears to be an eminently sensible woman, and did not panic before notifying her employers of the body. It has thus far been kept relatively quiet, in the hopes the investigation will be handled discreetly."

"If it is not known that he died in this room how are they explaining moving the students to another suite?" Chang queried.

"Plumbing problems." Yuy deadpanned.

Kushrenada smirked and moved past the couch and freestanding armchair to enter the kitchenette. It was a small kitchen, entirely suitable for a bachelor pad where the occupants had easy daily access to a cafeteria for main meals, and was dominated by the breakfast bar and three long legged stools. A bench against the rear wall boasted a small oven unit that was more of a toasting grill, a microwave unit and the sink. His quick survey of the cupboards below and above the bench, showed they were freshly stocked with packet food, no doubt brought in by the housekeeper preparing for the students return.

The refrigerator stood against the side wall between the sink, the work bench and the breakfast bar. The door of the unit was closed and he could see the residue of fingerprint powder all over the handle. The floor was the same highly polished wood found throughout the dorm house, and the walls of the kitchenette were lined with soft blue tiles with muted yellow cupboards. Everywhere he looked he could see the evidence of the forensic team in their search for evidence.

"So how long can we expect these plumbing problems to last?"

Treize was interested in how long they might expect to have the use of the apartment before the University Governors wished the dorm suite was to be cleaned and made ready for occupation. He considered the breakfast bar for a moment then turned his attention to Yuy, who lingered near the door.

"Close the door please. I think it would be a good idea not to allow Winner back into this suite. We know it has been broken into not once, but twice, first by the burglar and then by his killer. I would not consider it safe for him to return until we have found the killer."

Yuy closed the door as requested and moved to rest his hands on the back of the couch. "The plumbing excuse should hold for at least a week, and I am hoping we will have the matter cleared up before then. It should be a relatively simple matter to trace the burglar."

Chang and his partner exchanged faintly amused looks, and the L5 segment of the partnership shook his head in a negative as he faced Yuy.

"It may not be so simple to catch the killer." Chang returned.

Yuy sighed, the heavy tired exhalation of one who knew that life, in spite of his fondest wishes, was about to become complicated. "The killer doesn't need to be a Psychic. Why complicate things by immediately assuming we are dealing with a psychic here? It could have been one of the security guards who may have been a little overzealous in capturing an intruder, and is simply afraid to come forward."

"It could be." Treize agreed eyeing the agent and restraining the urge to grin. //But only if you totally discount the evidence.//

He knew only too well Yuy hated the complications that inevitably arose in the hunt for Psychic criminals. Their talents all too often complicated such a hunt, and required the use of a high level investigations team that included Psi active members to track and take them down. While Yuy was the product of select genetic manipulation, those altered genetics had been along a carefully devised blueprint of requirements, and his designers had not seen fit to activate and stimulate the genes that manifested the Psi awareness. Such experiments were at this time banned, as it was feared what artificially enhanced Psi talents might produce.

It was becoming increasingly difficult to devise effective detection techniques to aid in the pursuit of psi active crime, and organized criminal syndicates were all too quick to becoming aware of the potential high level psychics had in the underground. Kinetic and clairvoyant talents were particularly sought after by the underworld's recruitment program. Nobody was stupid enough to claim psychics were so ethical as to not join up with criminal elements.

"It may be as simple as that, but with such a high profile identity as Winner's son involved no one would be willing to take the risk, hence your visit to the Agency and our presence here now."

Treize cast a glance around the room and loosed his perceptions, lowering his shields sufficiently to sample the suite and shook his head at the impressions he received.

"This place does not 'feel' right. I know the students assigned here have been absent for a month on their tour to the colonies, but there is no lingering 'feel' of them in this room. There is nothing I could recognize and tag as belonging to former residents, either recently lingering residue or from years past. To all intents and purposes this suite had been swept clean of psychic impressions."

That comment drew the immediate attention of his partner. "Not possible, surely?" Chang questioned.

"I would have agreed with you before entering and sensing this room, but all I am picking up at a surface scan is a residue of what I presume may be the reaction of the housekeeper to finding the body, and some static that I believe is the emotional overflow of the forensic team and initial investigators who responded to the call. If you had not informed me there are three young males resident in this suite I would not have known it. What is more disturbing than this lack of residue of their existence here, is that I cannot detect any trace of the past occupants, and from the background reports this building, and I presume this suite, has been occupied as a student dormitory continuously for some twenty to thirty years."

Yuy considered the man in silence as he watched the auburn-haired Prime walk a circuit of the kitchen, and then pause at the refrigerator. After a moment of what looked to be deep thought Kushrenada reached and opened the door, bending slightly to peer within. He knew the man would find nothing as the body was long gone, and at this time the refrigerator was unplugged so there was no light to help him look for clues. Besides, the forensic team had thoroughly searched the unit seeking anything that might offer them insight into the killer, or the identity of the victim.

Yuy resisted the urge to sigh, which he determined would be a waste of effort at this time. He had received a briefing both in the past and on being assigned to this mission, on the foibles and eccentricities of the talented, and the patience he would need to work with them. Generally he did not mind working with psychics, but every now and then he encountered what amounted to a language barrier. What Psi's seemed to understand and take for granted might as well have been a totally unknown language to him.

"I don't mean to appear ignorant, but exactly what is notable about this absence of emotional … residue … you say is missing? I don't profess to understand even a half of the briefing I was given on the range, uses and strengths of the various forms of Psychic abilities, but perhaps you might help me understand exactly what it is that disturbs you about the suite?"

Kushrenada straightened slowly from the fridge and glanced across the breakfast bar at Yuy. "The residue I speak of is the psychic impression left behind by people marking strong emotions. A form of psychometry. It involves telepathic and empathic sensitivity and a touch of precognitive talent, with perhaps a dash of clairaudience combined, to permit the sensitive to read the emotional imprint left on items or an area. Good humour, irritation, sexual tension, anger, lust, frustration, loneliness … these are only some of the residue that I should perceive from the suite. Being a dormitory room for an institute offering a high level of education and complicated training, I would expect to find a reasonable level of frustration, irritation and anger, and I would think good humour lingering here. These emotions I would expect to mark the complexity of the level of work required of Tsuberov students in the pursuit of their studies. Every emotion we feel leaves an impression on our surroundings that can linger for years, in the case of strong emotion, and in the case of long term habitation lesser emotions would reinforce within the psychic atmosphere. The human male in particular is a volatile mix of emotions, the strongest through adolescence being sexual tension and aggression as the bodies hormones fluctuate. These emotions I would expect to find here in this suite as a matter of course, but I am detecting none of that. It is remarkable and notable for its absence."

Chang had been quietly opening cupboard doors and examining the contents as he listened to his partner speaking, and paused as he reached the last cupboard to consider his partner in silence and look about the room. He was not a sensitive to perceive these left over impressions, but he found the lack disturbing now that he knew of it, and while he knew Yuy could not appreciate just how unusual the lack of residue was, he knew the man was a professional and would not dismiss the concern. He turned back to the cupboard and opening the door found himself staring at a sizeable garbage bin.

"It would be considered disturbing by every sensitive I know capable of sensing the emanations of past emotion. To find a residence where there is one resident male clean of that type of emotional residue might be possible … doubtful and certainly disturbing, but potentially it might be possible. For there to be three male teenagers resident in this suite, and for there to be no discernable emanation of their past presence, in the form of lingering emotional imprinting, is beyond merely worrying. There should be a very strong residual build up to be tapped into."

"So the suite is notable not for what it is, but for what it does not, contain." Yuy looked between the two psi's for confirmation, filing away the information to investigate in private during his off-duty hours. The subject matter would likely keep him entertained for some time.

"Exactly." Treize confirmed. "Winner, Merquise and Maxwell are all telepaths and/or empaths of high, or respectably high, levels. The lowest of them claims a level five reading, and that is still a considerable talent. There is no way that I know of to strip a room of psi emanations as this room has been. It might be possible to lay a false cover to obscure lingering traces of emotion, but I can usually detect that type of deception, and I detect nothing of the sort here. Tsuberov teaches its telepaths and empaths to shield, and those shields are used to protect the user from the thoughts of others and the emotions of others, and they can not be used to seal off the emotional overflow that is human nature. We simply cannot shield the very air around us from our impressions of life and how we deal with life's vagaries. Simply living leaves residue, and this room has been wiped not only of their presence, but of the trace residue from previous inhabitants. What is most noticeable about this lack of 'presence' is that there is no indication that a murder took place in these rooms, and I assure you death leaves one hell of an impression. Especially sudden and violent death."

"Why are you so interested in the fridge?" Yuy queried moving forward to lean over the breakfast bar and watch as Kushrenada knelt down to get his head in the unit and angle himself around to have a close survey of the interior.

Treize sat back on his heels and considered the refrigerator in silence for a long moment. "I will be very interested in seeing the autopsy report on the victim at the earliest possible convenience. I have no doubt that the report will prove the killing was performed by a Psi, and not a low level psychic either. I believe this murder was carried out by a psi with a high level kinetic talent. To be honest, Yuy, given the circumstances of the kill it is the only explanation possible."

Chang's investigation of the garbage cupboard had revealed a latched door in the rear of the cupboard which, on investigation, proved to lead into a stairwell behind the unit. The building, he realized, was designed to have a communal garbage collection taken from an internal stairwell at regular intervals, possibly once a week. He determined that the bin would be pushed through the small door in the rear of the cupboard into the stairwell, to be collected by what he was sure would prove to be a contractor with access to the building, and he snorted softly at the revelation. In his view this was an unnecessary security risk, but he would reserve judgment until he investigated the stairwell and any security procedures that might be in place. It was possible that his investigation would reveal an adequate level of security to safeguard this access to the students' suites to satisfy him. Deciding he had exhausted all possibilities with the cupboards, he moved to join Treize and in his turn knelt to peer into the fridge.

Wu Fei looked about the interior with professional interest, noting the exact amount of room available, and the dimensions of the unit suggested the victim would need to have been short and slender to have been packed into this rather diminutive space. His examination complete he sat back on his heels and exchanged a knowing look with his partner.

Yuy glared at the agents who shared a look that suggested they had an answer to questions Yuy had not yet devised the questions for. Both men exchanged brief nods before looking again in the unit. Their fascination with the refrigerator was honestly beginning to annoy him.

"I hear what you are saying and I believe I even understand most of it, but I still fail to understand why you think it was not only a psi, but a high level kinetic talent, that was involved in the killing."

Chang rocked back on his heels and after a moment rose to his feet and turned to look at Yuy. "It was without a doubt a high level kinetic, unless your body in the fridge was smaller and lighter than I am. I would have to do some fancy and inventive wriggling and contortions to make myself fit in the available space, and those gymnastics would certainly involve dislocating a number of joints, which I would not be willing to do."

"Alright, I accept your certainty that a kinetic talent was involved in placing the body in the refrigerator, but exactly how do you come to that conclusion? I'll need a little more to include in my report at the end of the day than a brief note that in your opinion a kinetic did it." Yuy's resignation to the inevitable conclusion was apparent in his voice.

"I have no idea how tall or how heavy the victim was, but to fit a body of my size in a fridge of that size," Chang inclined his head to the unit, "would require dismemberment of the body, and a means by which the body parts could be restrained from falling out so the door could be closed. The limbs would need to be tightly tucked into the fridge to get the entire body within it, and that could be accomplished using the torso, but to fit the whole body, in my opinion, would have required more than just dismemberment. There was no evidence of blood in the crime scene photographs you brought to the Agency, and the body on the slab shot was certainly not a body that had been hacked apart."

Treize nodded slightly in agreement, but remained silent and allowed his partner to brief Yuy. This was the forte of the kinetic talent in their partnership, and he was more than willing to allow Chang to summarize.

"To accomplish the task of getting the body in the refrigerator in one undamaged piece, I think the only feasible explanation would be for the body to have strategic bones broken to enable it to be moulded to fit the available room. I would estimate that a kinetic talent of at least level 8, my own level, would have been required to do it neatly enough not to leave obvious signs on the body, or have the broken bones pierce the skin as the body was manipulated. Telekinesis is my specialty and I test high, not up to a Prime rating, but I do not lack for ability or training, and I can tell you honestly that it would have taken exacting concentration to get that body to fit in the fridge without breaking the skin when the bones were broken. It is a very neat piece of work."

"A reading of no less than that estimated strength would explain the neatness of the kill itself. No blood, guts or gore as demonstrated in the photographs, means no visible wound to explain the cause of death. There are a number of means to accomplish this, but before we jump to conclusions I believe you must consider this caution. A high level kinetic is quite capable of stopping a person's heart, or of delivering a direct blow of untraceable kinetic energy to the brain. All very neat and tidy with little risk of blood as evidence, or leaking to reveal the body before the killer could make good his, or her, escape. Mind you, turning the brain to mush would involve a considerable amount of pressure, and I would have expected at least some blood flow from the eyes, ears or nose. Such evidence was not revealed in the photographs, so I would expect the heart to have been the more likely target." Treize rose and moved away from the fridge, making his way across the room to what was revealed to be a bathroom.

"Professional hit men with psionic potential have been known to perform their kills by the simple expedient of stopping their targets heart as they walk past them. Unless you look for specific signs to the contrary, this method looks like a heart attack." Chang agreed. "It is something too easily done, and it has been known to occur by accident, such as in the case of irate lovers engaged in a dispute over possibly trivial matters, or in one or two rare cases by adolescent emergence of kinetic talent during a violent dispute. It's not so rare or hard to do, and is easily done accidentally by kinetics who have little or no training, and who tend to have short and volatile tempers. That is one of the reasons why all kinetics are registered as early as possible, and exactingly trained."

Yuy blew a breath of air at his bangs, considering the options offered him by these men who took the topic of killing with an unthinking thought so casually. He understood that they could accept accidental use of this talent, but the idea of the cold-blooded deliberate use of it sent shudders up his spine. Anyone who walked past you might be capable of killing you quietly, neatly and quickly. If there was a psychic running around capable of stopping people's hearts, and stuffing them into too small refrigeration units without apparent second thoughts, he could only wish his superiors had assigned the problem to some other agent. The theories these two offered was disturbing for how little effect he might be able to have on such a killer, and he decided to act on the one portion of their theory that he could do something about.

"I will not pretend this news thrills me, but I will not refute your suggestions without proof to the contrary. At this time I believe it would be best for me to begin making inquiries on the number and identity of known, and suspected, assassins who have kinetic talent of at least Level 8 on the scale. They would not be too common."

Treize reappeared from the bathroom and for a long moment considered the agent, before turning to the door closest to the bathroom. "I doubt you will find out much. Any assassin with that kind of talent would have the finances and organization to see his particulars were a closely guarded secret."

"It is a place to start and at this time we have little else to go on." Yuy returned.

"We are supposed to be interviewing this housekeeper. When is she expected to arrive?" Chang queried.

"I presumed you would wish to investigate the suite before you spoke to her, but if you are ready for her I will send word. Would you prefer the interview take place in the security office, or will these rooms be acceptable?"

"Perhaps you could inform her to meet us here. These rooms shall serve us well enough for the interview, and request she arrive in fifteen minutes." Kushrenada called from the bedroom. "That should provide us with time enough to complete our examination, and I would prefer to follow her movements throughout the suite. Her impressions will be stronger here."

"It's all in the report." Yuy sighed and began punching in the call code for the security centre. "They never read the report." A low muttered complaint.

"Of course we read the report." Chang flashed Yuy a grin as he moved to the door opposite the room Treize had entered. "I take it these are the bedrooms? Ah, yes. Just because we read the report does not give us the right not to do our job to our best ability. If we did not go over the report's findings in exacting detail, we would not be worth the exorbitant fees the Agency charges for our services. Quite often we find there is some minor detail that was forgotten or overlooked. It might be something that was considered to be unimportant; mundane even, that could not possibly have significance, and may in fact relate to the investigation. If there is something there that has been overlooked by the housekeeper, you can rest assured that Treize can dig it out of her."

"Coax, Chang." The exasperated comment drifted from the bedroom Treize was investigating. "I do not _dig_ into my subjects' mind and I would appreciate it if you would remember that. Saying that I dig in their minds is so uncouth, and implies unethical behaviour. During my interviews with witnesses I coax them to remember details they overlook."

Yuy snorted softly as he made the call, watching and listening to the by play between the two men, faintly amused at their banter. He had had the pleasure of working with them on a previous assignment, and knew they had been partnered together for two years, and in that time had come to understand each other on a deep level. On the occasions they had worked in unison previously, he had found a high degree of respect for each man, and it was directly through the Prime's talents that they had been able to learn of the terrorist leader's location, and through Chang's kinetic ability they had circumvented some of the nastier security measures the group had used to deter visitors. While he had learned to respect them as professionals, there had not been the time to get to know them on a more personal level.

"So? Same difference." Chang called back, crossing the room to investigate the bedside unit with a wicked grin, knowing himself safe from reprisal. Treize could not see his delight in his success at annoying his partner.

In the first of the three bedrooms Treize sighed and refused to bite, knowing the infuriating man would take every opportunity he could to get a rise out of him. It was one of the things he liked about the man, though he would never consider permitting Chang to know his amusement.

He continued to stare around the room in awe at the mass of posters lining the walls, some overlapping others as there was insufficient wall space to display them all. A high shelf over the bed was littered with models of space ships, some of which he recognized as freighters and shuttles, but others were of unknown designs. There were incomplete models of ships and what he presumed to be machinery models, possibly pertaining to some class taken at Tsuberov.

"From the paraphernalia in here I would venture a guess that this is Mr. Maxwell's room. Space ships, shuttles, blueprints for …" He paused and leaned closer to the wall taking a few seconds to study the schematics before him. "A robot of some kind? Hmm. Mr. Maxwell would appear to have quite a talent."

Yuy glanced around the suite and shrugged as he tucked away his com unit. "It is my understanding he is working on the design for some kind of robotic suit. I believe it is intended to be an environmental suit for those who work in vacuum that would allow greater mobility and dexterity for exterior maintenance on ships for the Sweepers. It is expected to revolutionize working conditions in space. His brilliance in the field is what led to his placement here at Tsuberov, not just his psychic potential." Yuy sighed and suppressed a shiver. "You know, I don't like the design of these suites. There are no windows in the kitchen or lounge and I find it claustrophobic."

"I suspect the students may spend much of their time in their bedrooms." Treize lifted the mattress from the bed by a corner and peered beneath, before replacing it and emerged from the bedroom. "I take it following our inspection the students belongings will be removed from this suite and sent to the new rooms?" At Yuy's nod, Treize flashed a devilish grin. "Yes, I thought so. Well I wish luck to whoever has the unenviable task of removing Mr. Maxwell's belongings and replacing them in some semblance of the order he so painstakingly arranged them in. I believe his system might involve the exacting and difficult art of standing in the doorway and throwing."

"I think that is termed artful disarray?" Chang chuckled exiting the room he had been investigating. "This is Mr. Winner's room, I believe, and he would appear to be a disturbingly neat individual. All of his books on business management, amongst other somewhat surprising topics, are neatly placed on shelves while posters of the L4 colony cluster, profit margins and performance graphs are neatly secured on the walls, nothing crooked or overlapping. It was a relief to find the magazine, though I admit it was a surprise."

Treize arched a quizzical eyebrow and Chang grinned at him, though it was Yuy who responded as he moved to stand between the two, near the door to the third bedroom where Treize joined him.

"The Gay Life." Yuy informed Treize, and acknowledged Chang's nod. "I know it was rather a surprise, especially considering the ethnic origins of the L4 Colony cluster. I wonder if daddy knows his son's personal choice of reading material."

Treize shrugged and opened the door to the smallest of the bedrooms in the suite. For a long moment he stood in the doorway and considered the room, his eyes trailing slowly over the walls and bed. The room was noticeably smaller than Maxwell's room, and he frowned as he considered its sparse decoration. The walls, like Maxwell's, were the uniform pale blue he personally thought was rather a cool colour, and one he would not have in his own bedroom. There were no posters, no photographs of family or friends, or any of the trappings he would normally associated with a young male living independent of a family.

"Has anything been removed from this room by the investigating team or by forensics?"

"No. It is disturbingly empty, isn't it? I was surprised when I initially searched the unit at the lack of personal effects. Looking at the room you would not know that a twenty-year-old male had lived in there for two years, and the three, Maxwell, Winner and Merquise, have been rooming together in this particular suite for that length of time." Yuy moved to stand in the doorway behind Treize, and glanced around the room. "The big surprise was in the bedside drawer."

The Agency investigator accepted the verbal nudge and crossed the room, his footsteps loud on the polished wooden floorboards, and he sat on the low bed, reaching to open the first of three draws on the lowboy set near the head of the bed. A bundle of loosely tied papers tucked between some clothing drew his immediate attention, and after removing them and carefully untying the ribbon that bound them he carefully skimmed through them, finding them to be on the one topic and becoming interested despite himself. Undoubtedly this was what the young man was expending his finances on, and Treize could only sigh and shake his head, hoping that he was not wasting his money.

Included in the bundle were four reports, each one proving to be from a different Private Investigations firm and all concerned with a search for a woman named Crystabel or Crystal with a possible surname of Martin or Matthews. Three of the four reports were marked as case closed, but the fourth proved to be a still active search, and the latest report amid the bundle was dated just prior to the young man's departure from the Earth on the tour of the colonies.

"Your report stated Merquise was an orphan with an unknown benefactor." Treize looked up at Yuy who nodded his confirmation and Treize considered the papers in his hand. "He is intent on finding someone." He checked the dates included in the reports summary on the investigation. "His mother?" He mused.

"I believe he may be seeking surviving relations, though such a search may not be possible considering he has no accurate information as to exactly who his mother was, not even a confirmed name. I am having the Private Investigations firms checked out to see if they have a reliable reputation. He has spent a considerable amount of money on the search to date, and from the lack of personal effects here I believe he is attending only to his own basic requirements. I have my doubts that this in any way relates to the murder, but I will not leave any avenue uninvestigated. From what I have learned he's friendly enough with Maxwell and Winner, but I suspect he has a lot of pride and would not appreciate hand outs."

"Hmm." Treize began to restore order to the bundle, ensuring the documentation was returned to its original place in the bundle. "His entire education here at Tsuberov is a hand out. I presume his benefactor pays him a stipend; otherwise he could not afford the services of these companies. Their fees, while considerable, appear not to be exorbitant, but it would explain his frugality."

Treize replaced the papers in the top drawer and opened the second, where he removed a large folder the length of the unit's draw and opened it, revealing a portfolio of sketches, and he leafed through them with a critical eye.

"Une said Merquise appeared more suited to the study of art, and I would have to agree that there is talent there. These are quite good. Do we know the subject?"

Most of the sketches contained in the portfolio were of a young woman in her mid teens, with flowing hair and wide eyes that seemed to convey a type of innocence that appeared rather idealistic. Treize found the depictions disturbed him, though he could not explain why, and that was enough to pique his curiosity. Was it the artists style, or had he captured something of the model herself that bothered him?

"Not as yet." Yuy shifted to make room for Chang, who peered into the room and looked around with narrowed eyes. He examined the sketch Treize was holding up and dismissed her.

"She is probably of no consequence, but an identity would help to exclude her from the investigation. Possibly his girlfriend, or a friend of a friend." Chang commented. "Looking at this room, I would wonder if anyone stayed here at all, if I did not already know otherwise. It looks very much like a hotel room, or a blank canvas waiting to be given personality."

"It is unnaturally clean, isn't it?" Treize looked about him with a weary sigh before replacing the art work and closing the folder. "Not just this bedroom, but the whole apartment gives the impression of having been cleaned … No, perhaps scoured is more an appropriate term, considering what I sense. Something here is not right beyond the fact there was a body that ended up in the fridge. It just does not feel right."

Yuy backed out of the room and returned to the lounge with Chang following him, leaving Treize to replace the portfolio and finish investigating the chest of draws.

"Is there anything else in the suite I should be aware of?" He queried.

Chang shrugged slightly and eyed the refrigerator over the breakfast bar. "I'm the kinetic, he's the sensitive. We have worked together for around two years now, and in that time I can't actually say that I have seen him react to a place the way he has to this suite. Undoubtedly it is because of what he does _not_ find, or sense here, but there is something more than his sensitivity he is reacting to. I would call it instinct, and yes, we can have instincts that do not necessarily relate to our psychic potential. I do admit to being more than curious as to how a room can be wiped of psychic impressions, and murder leaves a very large and disturbing impression. That lack of imprinting has me … frightened."

Yuy considered the shorter man in silence and shrugged. There really was nothing he could add to that. He knew little about psychics and psionics in general, though he could see that he would need to request his trainers provide him with a higher level of training in dealing with psychics, and understanding their idiosyncrasies and the seeming unfathomable language they occasionally spoke.

"He's good at what he does, isn't he?"

"Kushrenada?" Chang nodded slightly, surveying the room one more time, keeping his voice low. "Yes, he is the best at what he does. At his level most psychics go insane, unable to cope with the input their extended senses impose on them. There are only about nine Prime level telepathic empaths known in the Earth Sphere who are able to work with their sensitivity, and not have it override their control. Level 10 telepaths can reach planet wide with the right preparation and focus, and I believe some of them can actually extend their reach out to the colonies. They require exemplary shields to maintain the integrity of their own thoughts, and regular maintenance of those shields. It is the high level of empathy that is the main problem with them. They are too sensitive, and pick up emotions that can overwhelm them should their shields be breached. Treize should be picking up on the lingering impressions of the people who had lived in this room from years before the three current occupants moved in. Any violent, or passionate, interaction that might have taken place would have left residue."

Yuy still did not exactly understand the talk of sensing long gone people, but he knew enough about Agency psychics to know that it was of concern that they were concerned. "And he is only reading the people who have been in here after the murder took place? Yes, I can see where that would be disturbing."

"Disturbing? Treize is more than disturbed. He is intrigued by this anomaly, and he will be like a dog worrying a bone until he has the answer."

"Is it really so important?"

Chang subjected Yuy to a faintly shocked stare. "Is it … Yuy, do you have any idea what it could mean for criminal investigation techniques if there is a way to wipe out the imprint left after intense emotions are released? Criminal investigation would slip back a hundred years. Psychics of varying levels and abilities have been used to assist in the investigation of all manner of crimes for over a hundred years, and evidence garnered through psychic investigation has been admissible in court for over fifty years. Yes, it is major, if there is a means to block our investigators."

Yuy considered the smaller man in silence as he considered the revelation. Now he understood why the Agency Prime was so disturbed about the situation he had found in the suite. Law enforcement agencies through out the Earth Sphere relied on the evidence provided by their resident psychic investigators, to back up their more mundane investigation techniques. If a criminal element should discover a technique to block the psychics, the potential for subversion of law enforcement was frighteningly obvious.

"I have requested the housekeeper who found the body to join us here. She should arrive at any time now. Her name is Catherine Bloom, and her records identify her as being an employee at the Tsuberov complex for five years; and I warn you, she is not your usual run of the mill housekeeper. Ms Bloom is in fact a member of the security contingent assigned to this block as protection for the Winner heir."

Chang grunted softly. "You did not feel inclined to inform us of this before?"

"This was classified need to know, and you did not need to know. You do now." Yuy grinned at the disgusted look that comment earned him from Chang. He had included the information in the reports, so this proved just how much attention the agent had not paid to reviewing those reports. When Chang sat down and read the report there would no doubt be fireworks, and Yuy looked forward to it.

"How many people are there in the security contingent assigned to Winner's protection?"

"There are twenty one in all, with three shifts of seven personnel." Yuy watched as Treize exited Merquise's room and entered Quatre Winner's room. "That count does not include the Winner bodyguards assigned by his father; it merely reflects Tsuberov's level of awareness of the family prestige."

"I'm surprised the poor kid can breathe." Chang settled himself on the couch, and though he disliked the design and colour he decided it was rather comfortable.

"I don't believe I would like to live in his shoes for any length of time given the level of responsibility that constantly hangs over his head. He is expected to perform beyond the expectations of his teachers and family, and I know how high those expectations are, considering the reports exchanged between his father and the teaching staff here." At Chang's look Yuy shrugged. "I had opportunity to see some of the reports, and I would not like to be forced to meet those expectations."

//Hacking into classified files again, Yuy?// He chose not to comment on the indiscretion, as it was likely that at some time during this investigation he and Treize might need to bend the rules a little. They had been known to do so on more than one occasion, and it never hurt to have a little insurance should Yuy decide to stick to the book.

"How high does the kids stress level read?"

"High." Yuy returned and glanced at his watch. "The housekeeper should be here any minute. I was given to understand that this trip to the colonies, while study related, was intended to give all three students respite before embarking on intensive training schedules on their return. In the case of Merquise, it was also intended to give him the opportunity to observe the levels of work expected of graduate psi's in the real world, and determine if he has any preferences for where he might prefer to find gainful employment."

"Gainful employment? Someone of his talent might find 'gainful employment'?"

Yuy shrugged and refrained from responding. He personally thought that in spite of Tsuberov's claims to be an open campus if you could afford the fees, discrimination did occur, and owing to his questionable background Merquise was subjected to instances of it. Perhaps he was reading more into it that actually existed, but he had found enough instances in his own past to understand being the odd man out in social circles.

//Merquise would be in the final year of his training, so I can well imagine how intensely he will be monitored for the next few months. Winner might make a Prime in the same field, though it is more likely he will succeed in a single class as Prime than the dual class as Treize is and Merquise is projected to meet. I wonder exactly what stage of development Maxwell has reached?// Chang dismissed the thoughts as superfluous to the needs of the situation, and turned his attention back to the matter at hand. "Where in relation to this suite of rooms are the three to be quartered while the investigation is ongoing?"

"A new suite has been assigned down one level. This floor is full and it was decided that it would be safer for all concerned if they were relocated to what is considered to be a safe distance."

"A safe distance? Something tells me that the other side of the planet might not be safe if someone is intent on acquiring Winner to be used against his father's interests. The shielding and sound proofing of the suite guarantees no one heard anything suspicious, but surely someone might have noticed something out of the ordinary."

t.b.c.

Karina Robertson 2006

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Authors Notes:

The design of the building follows the English floor plan where the lowest floor is the ground floor and the next floor up is called the first floor, so the third floor is actually the fourth level of the building.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

"Personally I have always found 'safe' to be a relative term, primarily dependent on the best circumstances of a given situation." Treize's voice from Winner's bedroom proved the Prime was listening to the conversation, though he had not previously chosen to participate.

Chang smirked and glanced toward the bedrooms. He had learned soon after their first meeting the man, that the Prime was graced with sensitive hearing, particularly if his name should be mentioned in conversation.

Without doubt Kushrenada could be trying on the nerves, but he would trust his back to Treize and his abilities any day. Their partnership had taught him not to take any information at face value, and there was sure to be multiple layers in everything said and done within sight or hearing. All he needed to do was look and actually see, listen and truly hear.

"I am of the opinion it is one of the most misleading words in the English language." Chang returned.

"In any language. Safety is a transient thing, a state between instances, and therefore not to be counted on." Yuy paced slowly across the lounge room, his expression as devoid of emotion as always.

The observation from Yuy came as something of a surprise to Chang, who eyed the Agent with speculation. He knew too little of the training programs and education given to the select few like Yuy. The breeding of these agents and their rearing had been government sponsored and monitored, and too frequently Yuy gave the impression of being as emotional as a brick. Chang had interacted enough with him on past missions to decide he liked the agent despite his social shortcomings.

It generally came as a shock when something besides mission data issued from that tight-lipped mouth. Yuy could be depended on as an agent, and if you were on his team you could feel assured your back was safe in his presence. Moments of scintillating conversation and philosophical discussions with him tended to be rare.

In the bedroom Treize smirked, catching his partner's surprise through the links that bound them. Yuy could be a surprising package, and his deadpan delivery took some getting used to. The Kushrenada family, amongst others, had expressed a personal concern when the government first had announced the development of specifically-bred children to fulfill the rising requirements of the ESUN. That the first few children had been bred and reared in secret had caused an outcry, but the success of the designer program could not be denied. Whoever had trained Yuy had taken pains to give him more than a basic grounding in education, and safeguards were in place to ensure the agents were not exploited. Unlike Chang, Treize had been entertained on more than the odd occasion with intelligent conversation on a myriad of subjects with the agent.

//Yuy could surprise you, Wu Fei. He could keep me entertained for hours, and I admit that is an accomplishment.//

Further comment from either Chang or Yuy was halted by the beep of the door lock refusing an access code, a moment of silence and then a repeated beep as the code was attempted a second time. Yuy arched an eyebrow, amused and noted Chang's frown. A sharp rap on the door came before Yuy moved, striding to the door with a carefully blank face.

"That would be the housekeeper who will not be amused I had the access codes changed. I have found certain members of the security contingent here to be a little less aware of the sanctity of a crime scene than I approve."

It was standard procedure to ensure the security of a crime scene, particularly when a Sensitive was to be brought in to 'read' the area.

Chang turned to better observe the door and nodded briefly when Yuy glanced at him. He would have been more concerned had Yuy not taken such a precaution. Heero opened the door and stepped aside, motioning the young woman to enter the suite. He pointedly ignored her snapped complaint that her pass key no longer operated.

"I hope someone received permission to interfere with the security protocols, or there will be trouble. I am to have unrestricted access to every room in this building at all times, and I do not appreciate being locked out without due notification."

Yuy scowled and glared back, allowing his own annoyance to show. She was a vibrant redhead with a smattering of freckles across an up-tilted nose, and Chang decided she would have the temper to match her hair. The curly mass was of a shade he doubted could be bottled, and was tied neatly back into a pony tail with a simple black band holding it in place. She gave the impression of a no nonsense individual, full of confidence in her own abilities as she stalked past Yuy. Her slender figure was complimented by the tight fitting dark brown uniform of a dorm worker at the university complex, and she moved with a grace and ease Chang recognized. It might have belonged to a dancer, but he was more inclined to believe it the natural grace of a martial arts expert. Given her position in the security system of the University, he wondered how good she was in a fight.

Her blue eyes were sharp and clear, and swept the room with a piercing glare that no doubt had cowed many a child of the rich and famous into tidying up after themselves. He wondered if she was expecting to find the room in a shambles after their examination, and if she would dare make a comment if she found something out of place. If she ruled her dormitories with this kind of attitude he wondered how the Maxwell boy had slipped under her radar … or how he had gained immunity.

"Mr. Yuy." She nodded slightly in greeting as she turned back to face the agent. "I'm halfway through preparing the new suite for the students, and I have a great deal to do before they arrive. I would appreciate it if we could keep this short? The new security sensors have been installed and tested, and the surveillance system monitoring the hallway has been checked."

//An interesting woman.// Chang mused. //One would hope she does not maintain this attitude out of work hours. Her personal life must suffer if she does.//

"Catherine Bloom, Chang Wu Fei." Yuy introduced the two, ignoring the woman's curt comment and closed the door before turning to face her. "Ms Bloom, Mr. Chang works for The Agency, as does his partner, Mr. Kushrenada. Your cooperation in this investigation has been assured by your employers. I hope there will be no further difficulties."

//Well, Yuy does not approve of her, that much is obvious. It usually takes a considerable amount of 'difficulties' to annoy him. I wonder how their past meeting went to cause this much aggravation//

The redhead's gaze swept over Wu Fei before she inclined her head to Chang, in a manner suggestive of approval, and he decided to reserve judgment. Perhaps the contention between the two was just one of those unavoidable personality clashes that saw sparks fly. He watched as she half turned, catching movement out of the corner of her eye, and he saw those blue eyes widen as Treize emerged from Winner's room, and her pretty face clouded over into a scowl.

"The bedrooms of the students are private and played no part in the incident. I will thank you to kindly keep out of them." Her tone was decidedly cool.

Yuy's eyebrows elevated and Chang did not doubt he betrayed his own surprise at her comment. She was a prickly piece of work, and he wondered just what her problem was. Treize had not even been introduced to the woman, but it stood to reason he was a part of the investigation and had a right to be present. Not only was this reaction uncalled for, but he was certain this display of bad manners would be against the University's policies. The only person present who did not appear to be disturbed by her attitude was Treize, whose sapphire gaze swept over her in an assessing glance.

"How fortunate for us all you were present during the entire episode, My Dear. Perhaps you would be gracious enough to enlighten us as to who did the deed, and thereafter explain in detail how the kill was accomplished, and how the body was fitted so precisely into the refrigerator? I will be delighted to close the case speedily and you may resume your duties." Treize commented in a light tone, a pleasant smile curving his lips.

Chang winced at the rising blush colouring the young woman's face. He knew that tone of voice and the psi strength backing it. She would be about the same age as Treize, he reflected, certainly no older than his twenty five years. At the moment she looked as though she was a six year old gently, but firmly, chastised for a minor infringement. Treize could so easily have that effect on a person, particularly if he backed his words with psi ability to annoy, aggravate or intimidate his target.

"Mr. Kushrenada is a empathic telepath with permission to scan the entire University should such action prove necessary." Wu Fei drew her attention and did not keep the chill from his voice. "We are as discreet as possible considering the nature of our work, Miss Bloom. We do not intrude any more than necessary during the course of our investigations."

Her blush deepened, but he suspected it was anger now, not embarrassment. "I have work to do. What did you want me for?"

"We require you to go over the events leading up to your discovery of the body with Mr. Kushrenada." Yuy motioned her to the couch. "Please, sit down."

"I have a great deal of work to do before the students return this evening, so my time is severely limited. I have filled out an incident form and made a separate statement. I am a professional in the field of personal security and I missed nothing in either the report or the statement. There is nothing more I can tell you."

Treize watched, silent and thoughtful as she settled herself on the couch, noting how the cushions were straightened as she did so. She was security but she was also responsible for the housekeeping of the units, and it was ingrained in her through training and habit to maintain the units to a certain level of cleanliness. He suspected there might even have been psyche conditioning involved in her training program. There usually was a certain element of conditioning in the private security agencies catering to the needs of the rich and famous.

"We are well aware of your credentials, Miss Bloom, and the constraints of time. It is, however, required that I Read you. Do you know what that means?"

It was obvious the woman did indeed understand the reference, as she shot back to her feet, a furious scowl darkening her face. "The security protocols of the University require I be exempt from all psychic readings. I have in my possession codes and vital information pertaining to student security too many people would be interested in learning. In addition to this exemption I have been fitted with a neural unit to ensure such information is protected. You will get nothing from me by Reading me, Mr Kushrenada. Good day, gentlemen."

Yuy scowled and before either of the Agency men could respond he stepped between her and the door, forestalling her departure. "I was not informed you were fitted with a neural unit."

"I was fitted with the device after the Winner heir was enrolled at the university, as part of an upgrade in security protocols. The codes required to enter this suite are known to a select few, as are the security protocols used to guard the student whilst he is under the protection of the University. Such precautions are standard practice when dealing with a high profile student."

"Understood. We have further questions to be answered."

Treize could almost hear her teeth grinding as she glared daggers at the man. A strong-willed woman, good at her job, and he was almost certain now there was conditioning involved. To the first caress of his talent, a light sensing touch, he could detect an anomaly in the 'feel' of her aura.

"One thing that strikes me as curious, Miss Bloom, is the trio sharing this unit." Treize motioned her to return to her seat. "I will not Read you, My Dear, in light of the neural net you have installed, but you can still answer a few questions for me."

Grudgingly the woman sank onto the couch, and Treize took particular note of how she leaned forward slightly too minutely straighten the coffee table placed before the couch. He caught Wu Fei's frown and knew he tagged the action as being not quite natural.

"What is odd about the boys?" Yuy queried, glancing at Treize with a frown.

Treize flicked his fingers in a hunter's signal for caution he knew Yuy would recognize, and turned his attention solely to the woman eyeing him as though she expected him to explode in front of her.

"Now, Miss Bloom, would you mind telling me why you think the University Governors would place the Winner heir in the same suite as two wards of the state?"

He focused his talent, concentrating on the woman seated before him, her back rigidly straight and hands clasped with fingers interlocked. Extending a delicate tendril of thought towards her he settled across from her, seating himself on the coffee table and ignoring her disapproving scowl.

"I am not privy to the thinking of the Governors." Came the curt response. "Nor are either Wards of the State as both students are under private contract."

"Now, My Dear, I did not ask you what the Governors were thinking. I asked for your thoughts on why you think they placed these three together."

His voice dropped to a purr, a low ripple of sound drawing her in, and his eyes were sharply focused. He was concentrating on her with an intensity both watching men recognized, and Yuy's eyes widened.

Chang hissed a sharp breath as he realized Treize was working with his talent despite the neural implant, and he recognized something was highly suspicious. Either the woman had lied, or her unit was malfunctioning. Treize should not so easily be able to penetrate a neural implant. If the woman answered with anything other than a protest to the attempt then there was undeniably something wrong.

"It is not my place to question the decisions of the Governors. I am not privy to their discussions with Mr. Winner."

Yuy settled into the armchair and watched, aware Chang had tensed and Treize was the only one who seemed relaxed. Something was wrong here, and he did not doubt it would reflect on the incident resulting in a body in the refrigerator.

"Of course you are not privy to their discussions. You are security and it is your business to keep your charge secure from threat. Is this not so?"

"Yes."

"I am certain Mr. Winner is safe in your care. What happened when you entered the suite last night, Miss Bloom?" A low purr in that rich voice, persuasive and gentle.

"I… I… tidied… the… kitchen." There was a glassy look to the woman's eyes, her body seemed to be frozen and a disturbing paleness settled over her face. "There was… a b… a b…"

Yuy flicked on the tape machine in his pocket, aware they needed notes and caught Chang's eye. The Agency representative nodded, indicating he was also taping. The woman seemed to be having difficulty breathing and seemed to want to speak, but could not talk past something the size of golf ball in her mouth.

"That is alright, Miss Bloom. There is no need to concern yourself with that just now. When you entered the suite you cleaned the lounge did you not?"

"Yes." A whisper. Her breathing calmed and the word came out easily.

"Was the suite not cleaned when the students first departed for their tour of the colonies?" He kept the low, gentle purr in his voice, and lightly traced a finger over the back of the woman's hand, sliding long fingers around her wrist to rest over her pulse point, ignoring the irritated movements of her fingers.

He caught Chang's eye and nodded before focusing all of his attention once more on his subject, and Chang gently nudged Yuy. He placed the tape recorder on the coffee table beside Treize and motioned Yuy to do the same, before stepping away from the pair. He drew Heero away from the lounge into the kitchen, where he leaned on the bar and settled down to watch and listen.

"What is going on, Chang?" Yuy had the sense to whisper, and his eyes never left the pair in the lounge.

"There would appear to be a problem with the neural unit implant. Miss Bloom is susceptible to Treize's abilities, and from his reaction she should not be … or at least it should not have been so easy for him to touch her thoughts. If the unit was working as it should be, she would have a headache by now, and be complaining loudly and rightfully about a breech of etiquette. With a neural unit installed and operational, any Sensitive would back off at the first hint of a headache from the subject, for fear of damaging said subject."

"He is using his talent despite being told she is protected? Chang, do you have any idea how much trouble he could be in if the Security Agency learns about this?" Yuy hissed at Wu Fei, eyes widened and wondering how much flack would fall on him, since he was witness to this breach of protocol.

"Treize never does anything without a good reason. Wait and watch." Chang grinned and motioned to the tapes. "These are for private use only, to review what he finds out from her. This session is not, as yet, official, and I would appreciate your cooperation in the matter. If you are concerned for her, don't be. He is the best, Yuy. He has circumvented neural units before without causing harm or distress to the subject. That specific ability is why the government has hired him on more than a few occasions to perform clandestine scans of their personnel. I expect this scan will be far easier than those instances when he has been required to perform the scans from a distance, with only passing contact with the subject. He's good. He knows when to back off."

"His skills aside, I do not want to answer awkward questions." Yuy hissed. "You can not tell me he was issued with exemptions to perform these scans at will can you?"

"Neither do I intend to answer awkward questions. The most awkward question I can imagine we would have to answer on this case would be why the Winner heir was abducted, or killed, on supposedly safe ground. Do you want to answer that question? No? Let him work and use the tape for reference if he comes up trumps, and for now, keep the tape under wraps. Should it prove necessary I do not doubt he can clear their use with Une." Chang turned his attention back to the conversation taking place across the room, hoping Yuy would see the sense in remaining silent.

"I am responsible for the general maintenance and appearance of these suites. I clean and freshen up the suites before the return of the students whenever they are away for any length of time."

Yuy scowled. Three times in the last few minutes Treize had asked her a question, and three times she had replied with that totally unrelated piece of drivel. For a moment he reflected how fortunate it was he was not a working Psi, as he would not have had the patience to deal with circumstances such as this. To him her answers were an obvious lie, or evasion of the question Kushrenada actually asked, yet the man seemed undisturbed by the evasion.

"I understand you are very conscientious of your work, and I applaud your dedication to duty. There can be no faulting the care you exercise in your duties. Now, other than this morning, when was the last time you entered this apartment?"

"Yesterday. I turned on the utilities and the water heater, checked the gas lines and washed out the refrigerator and cook unit. Standard preparations after an extended absence of the students."

"Very good. They will no doubt be far more comfortable for your care. Do you enjoy working for the University security department?"

"Yes." Red lashes lowered and she looked to be half asleep, though her fingers constantly wrung together in a clearly agitated motion.

"Excellent. We all should be happy in our line of work." Treize lightly stroked a finger over her fingers in a light caress, measured and constant, until her fingers calmed their movement. "I am equally certain the governing body is pleased with your performance on behalf of their students. No one has complained about your dedication to your duty, have they?"

"No."

"Good. Now Miss Bloom, think back to when you entered the suite this morning. Was there anything out of place? Was anything different between when you left yesterday evening, and when you entered this morning?"

He monitored her aura and the subtle 'wrongness', which had alerted him to an anomaly. The disturbance was stronger when he pushed for her to remember. He needed to read deeper into her subconscious, to access the memories he knew were pertinent to the investigation, and he knew gaining access that deeply into her psyche was not going to be easy. The block he sensed was powerful, and he needed to work around it more than tackle it head on.

"Think very carefully before you answer. Remember each of your movements last night, and the order in which you made them, and compare the rooms you remember last night to what you recall of them this morning. It's alright for you to tell me what you were doing as you remember, Miss Bloom. In fact I think you should. It will assist in helping keep the order of events fresh in your recall."

"I … vacuumed and dusted the lounge. Made the beds …" Her fingers spasmed and contorted into writhing restlessness. "I dusted in the bedrooms. Freshened up the bedrooms and … Freshened … Made the beds … I … I dusted in the bedrooms and replaced… Made the bed … replaced the bedding. I entered … entered … In the bathroom I set out towels and made certain there was fresh soap and shampoo, then I went to the kit … to the … kit … I … I entered the bedrooms … "

Treize closed his fingers around her hands, stilling her movement and gently applying soothing pressure from his mind to hers. "That is alright, Miss Bloom. That was very helpful. You say you tidied up and vacuumed in Mr. Maxwell's room? Were the items on the floor in Mr. Maxwell's rooms not there when you vacuumed?"

"I… vacuumed… Nothing on…" She struggled to get words out, her face flushing with the effort, something rising within to block her voice. Distress burnt in her eyes, and under his larger hands her hands wrung together.

"That is alright, My Dear. We can move on for now." He considered the glimpses of remembered activity he had picked up directly from her mind, flashes of instances from the night before and the morning. "Perhaps you can explain to me why you needed to replace the bedding in Mr. Winner's room?" Treize lightly stroked her wrist, exerting a calming influence.

Yuy arched an eyebrow and looked to Chang, who grinned and tapped his left temple, indicating telepathy and turned back to the pair. He did not wish to miss the smallest interaction between the two.

The tiny frown that had been in evidence for some time now grew into something larger and more ominous. The young woman shook her head in denial, and pulled lightly against his grip.

"I did not replace Mr. Winner's bedding." The obstruction in her mouth seemed to have passed as she spoke clearly and decisively, if a little rapidly. "I made the bed last night, before I left the suite. I had a busy morning scheduled and wished to save time."

"And did you make the other boys beds last night?" There was something there, something lurking just beyond his reach, and with a little more digging he was certain he could reach it.

"Yes, of course I did." She sounded faintly indignant.

"Then why did you replace the bedding this morning?" A little more pressure … just so …

"Because of the plants." The words slipped from her, and under his hands he felt her fingers spasm.

Yuy leaned forward eagerly. There had been nothing mentioned in her statement made to the investigators about plants. He had taken every word and searched it for any clue, however small, he might apply to the investigation and there had been nothing. Chang shifted slightly beside him and listened intently, dark eyes narrowed. He was well aware by now his partner was fighting some type of mental block, and he did not believe it to be caused by the neural unit. Someone must have altered the woman's memories, and that was one of the greatest crimes in this modern age of psychics. It was also rather a delicate mental process to alter her memories through the neural net's protection.

//As I understand it these neural implants have access codes, and may be accessed for maintenance and adjustments as technology advances. Has someone access to her implants codes?//

Treize smiled soothingly and caressed the palm of her hand lightly with a finger. "That was inconsiderate of someone, placing plants in inappropriate places. Where were the plants, Miss Bloom?"

A full minute stretched in uncomfortable silence as Treize felt his way around the barrier and the effects of the neural implant, before a shuddering breath escaped her.

"In the kitchen and scattered in the beds. Some prank, no doubt."

Her fingers were curling into claws, twitching and straining against the restraint of his hands. He considered her for a moment, slipping a finger to the pulse in her wrist, and determined though distressed there was still a safety margin in which he could work.

"What type of plants did you need to remove from the boys' beds?"

He felt the shaking begin and build slowly, until she might have been shivering from cold. Her eyes were wide, the iris huge and her colour paled further.

"I … re … I … no … can't …Made the beds last … " Her hands were balled into tight fists and her eyes flashed constantly about the room, as though she did not recognize the suite.

With a carefully gentle voice he gripped her hands, massaging his thumbs against the backs of her wrists. "That is quite alright, Miss Bloom. You need not concern yourself with the problem at this time. Perhaps you could tell me where you put the plants from the boy's beds?"

"Plants?"

"Yes, My Dear, the plants you removed from the beds of the students who will be staying in this suite. Where did you put them when you cleaned the bedrooms?"

"In the garbage, of course."

A shudder shook her slender frame, and Treize increased the level of soothing thoughts he was projecting at her. The block he was probing was a powerful force within her mind, and he was only too aware of the tightrope with her sanity he was walking. It was hardly the woman's fault she had been subjected to illegal tampering.

//Still, she would be dead if she had not been blocked. I think you met the killer, Miss Bloom and it will take some delicate work on my part to wring his identity out of you.//

"Of course, how silly of me. Where did you put the plants from the kitchen?"

"I … Kitchen? What plants?"

"Yes, Miss Bloom, the kitchen. Tell me where you put the plants you found on the breakfast bar in the kitchen?"

"Flowers … on the sink." A whisper.

//Progress. Flowers?// "Ah. I apologize. My mistake. The flowers were on the sink, still in their wrappings."

He caught Chang's frown and resisted the urge to smile. He knew what worried his partner, but he was careful in his methods and he was not leading the questioning, merely coaxing information out of her. He was all too practiced in this method of interrogation, and knew what would, and would not, be admissible in a court of law. For the moment this interview was off the official record, but he might be required at a later date to bring the matter to light.

"Yes."

"Such a pity the flowers were old and wilted. They would have been lovely when fresh."

"They were … fresh."

Treize resisted the urge to smirk. The pressure of the block within her mind was building and he would need to call a halt soon, but he judged he had a little more time. Already this interview had paid off, and he would wring from it every ounce of information he could, without unduly endangering her. He did not like the implications he found from the events he glimpsed within the shadows caused by the block.

"The flowers were fresh?"

"Yes. Fresh … I … nothing … This morning."

Yuy moved restlessly, noting the woman's breathing pattern was rising and glanced at Chang with an arched eyebrow. Wu Fei shook his head, unconcerned and motioned toward the Prime's hands, wriggling his fingers to indicate where he wished Yuy's attention. Treize had wrapped one of her wrists with his fingers and had turned her hand, allowing them to see he had his fingers on her pulse, and his other hand was inclined to permit him to see the display on his watch. The Prime was measuring her pulse, and satisfied due care was being taken, Yuy subsided.

"This morning? The flowers were not in the kitchen last night?"

"No." A breathy whisper.

Chang and Yuy exchanged a look, both frowning. Something was definitely wrong here. Wu Fei glanced at the refrigerator and then back to Yuy, who was chewing at his lower lip. The time scale of events seemed about to fall around their ears.

"That is very good, Miss Bloom. You seem a little breathless. Perhaps you should take a few measured breaths, My Dear? Yes, slowly now. A little deeper each time, and allow the tension to fall from you with each exhalation. Much better. I have enjoyed chatting with you. What kind of flowers were they?"

"Flowers?"

Yuy rolled his eyes and rubbed a hand over his jaw. He would be more likely to rip the information from the mind of his subject than perform such a delicate dance. He did not have the temperament for such a trial, and Chang growled softly beside him. He felt a little better as the constant dance obviously annoyed the Agency representative as much as he.

Treize considered the agitation level already rising and offered up a new round of mental soothants, deciding a small retreat might gain him more ground. "You made Mr. Maxwell's bed this morning, did you not?"

"Yes, yes, I did."

"Because there were flowers in the bed."

"No."

Chang rolled his eyes dramatically and swore silently. Where his partner gained his seemingly endless patience astounded him. His own temperament was more suited to threatening than coaxing. It was as well he was a kinetic and not a telepath or empath. He would love to know how much extra information Treize was receiving through his mind to mind contact with the subject, and knew it was certainly more than he and Yuy were gaining from listening in.

"How odd. I am certain there were flowers in Mr. Maxwell's bed."

"Yes … No. No flowers."

She was becoming visibly flustered again, and Treize gently closed his hands over hers, smoothing her palms with his long fingers. He was far from discouraged with the progress thus far. The block was extensive and he could not realistically expect to gain all the information from her in one sitting. Interrogations such as these worked best over time, and involved applying as little stress to the subject as possible.

"What was in Mr. Maxwell's bed, Miss Bloom?"

"I …" Her fingers trembled and her head turned slowly from side to side, as though she was trying not to look at something only she could see.

"Tulips were in the kitchen, were they not?" A surge of soothing thoughts and an extension of warmth through his empathy, offer up with a silent prayer to some higher being for a breakthrough. Yuy had to be getting restless, and he did not need distractions and disturbances now. "Yellow tulips."

"Roses. Red Roses."

//Yes. I knew we could find our key to dig a little deeper.// He smiled, lathering her thoughts with approval and security through his talent. "Was there a card with the flowers?"

"No."

"Red Roses. Someone has romantic inclinations. Does your Mr. Winner have many admirers? Perhaps even a secret admirer who sends him flowers often?"

"I … don't …" Her fingers curled into fists which Treize spent a few minutes gently prying apart.

"Well, perhaps one should not presume the recipient was Mr. Winner, hmm? It was, after all, Mr. Maxwell who had roses in his bed. Is that not so, Miss Bloom?"

"No … Stems." The breath of a whisper, and again her voice betrayed she was working against the block, the obstruction in her mouth in evidence.

"Stems?" Treize frowned and glanced around at Chang and Yuy, who looked equally as surprised and puzzled.

"Rose stems. The heads were cut off."

Chang straightened slowly and tried to wipe the frown from his forehead. He did not understand, and meeting the gaze of his partner he realized Treize was equally confused. Yuy shrugged slightly beside him and mumbled something Chang could not quite make out. The woman sat quietly, her eyes half closed and her breathing gradually steadying to light and easy breaths.

Treize was re evaluating his line of questioning, and did not immediately offer more questions, choosing instead to permit the security agent to regain her stability. He was careful to surround her with an aura of safety and confidence, and when he judged her to be centered he began again.

"Miss Bloom, were the flowers in the kitchen intact roses?"

"No … flowers … in kitchen."

//Damn.// Chang dropped his head into his hands. //Not this again.// The resistance was quick to reestablish itself, and wipe out the progress his partner had made. //We could be here all day.//

Treize did not appear to be disturbed by the seeming loss of ground. "What about in Mr. Maxwell's room, Miss Bloom? What were the flowers in his bed?"

"No … flowers."

He ignored her denial and noted the rise in her pulse, and the stiff claw like fingers wrapped in his hands. "Had the thorns been removed from Mr. Maxwell's rose stems, Miss Bloom?"

"No fl … Yes … No … No flowers …"

He could feel the resistance of the block growing and knew his time in this session was short, but he wanted just a little more information from her. "Do not let it concern you, My Dear Lady. It has been a pleasure talking to you today, and you may rest shortly. Before you do, tell me how very messy Mr. Merquise's room was. Were there many flowers to remove?"

"Mess ? No … flowers. I … Blood … Like blood … I … There were … No mess … Always neat … In the bed. All over … Blood … Red … Blood."

The implanted ball in her mouth seemed to be growing larger, and Treize could feel the racing beat of her heart. He was going to need to call off the interview.

"Was there no card with the roses in the kitchen, Miss Bloom?"

"No … flowers … kitchen."

"Very good, Miss Bloom. Did you place the flowers in the garbage bin, My Dear? Did you dispose of all of the flowers in the suite in the garbage bin in the kitchen?"

"I … No. Yes. I think … bin." Her hands were balled into tight fists, and all trace of colour bled from her face.

"I have already checked the garbage bin. It is empty. There is a new bin liner and deodorizer smelling strongly of pine." Chang murmured.

// Pine would cover the lingering scent of roses, and the garbage has obviously been changed. We need to find that bag and have it examined.// Treize smoothed his hands over her wrists, noting the trembling growing, despite every soothing thought he directed at her.

"Is she alright? She looks as though she is about to faint." Yuy moved around the breakfast bar and Treize motioned him to wait.

"I am going to have to allow her to come out of this state before it gets dangerous. I dare not push any further at this time, but there is little doubt Miss Bloom witnessed far more than was included in her statement."

t.b.c.

Karina Robertson 2006

—————————-

Treize Kushrenada : Level 10 Sending/Receiving Telepath + Receiving and Projecting Empath at Level 10. Prime rated. Agency Operative contracted term of 5 years with 2 years remaining. [25yrs of age Training facility: Psychic Institute Munich Division.

Chang Wu Fei: Level 9 Telekinetic + Receiving Telepath Level 5. Agency Operative contracted term of 10 years with 8 years remaining[22yrs of age Training facility:Psychic Institute Luxemburg Division.

Heero Yuy: ESUN Security Agency Elite Operative. Government sanctioned Genetic enhancements performed by Romefeller Genetic Laboratory, Tokyo for adult service as Security Enhanced Operative. No Psychic Talent. Genetic induced enhancements include enhanced Strength, Hearing, Speed and Olfactory senses. Assigned regularly to liaison with The Agency's psychic agents. [21 / 22 years old

Catherine Bloom: Tsuberov University Security Agent and House Keeper No Psionic talent. Staff member at Tsuberov for 5 year period. Fitted with Neural shield implant against telepathic intrusion. [25yrs of age.


	5. Chapter 5

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 5/??

//…// Thoughts

/.../+ Telepathy

Chapter Five

The suite of rooms chosen to house the Winner heir and his room mates was a mirror image of the upstairs suite in layout and design. The upper floor suite faced over the rear of the dormitory building, and the new suite overlooked the front grounds. On entering Treize nodded briefly to his partner and Yuy, signaling he desired the opportunity to be alone and work with his abilities. Chang motioned Yuy to one side and watched as Treize walked slowly through the lounge and then the kitchen, sensing the rooms with his talents focused. With the Prime occupied the other two men turned to discussing the newly installed security system, each attempting to find a flaw that might place the students at risk.

Treize quickly excluded the pair from his awareness, focusing not on the here and now, but on the residue of the past. He extended his perceptions cautiously through exactingly maintained shields, allowing the residue to seep into his awareness, and not overpower him in a deluge of emotions. Here he found what had been missing from the upstairs suite of rooms and had so disturbed him. The residual impressions left by past occupants, the leftover remnants of personalities flavored everything surrounding him, from the air itself to the furnishings.

He could sense laughter, bitter and sweet, honest and false, lingering as a shimmering fog in his awareness. He had no difficulty in picking up residual frustration leading into heartbreak and tears, anger. There were pockets of other strong emotions, impressions of tears flavored with overflowing joy, instead of sorrow and fear. His slowly spreading net caught in its mesh triumph and elation, as well as indecision and hesitation. Desires unrequited and desire fulfilled, lust for another's body and sexually-oriented frustration and satisfaction, and mixed within was the underlying lust for success.

This was what he had expected to find in the other suite, and had been conspicuous by its absence. This swirling core of emotions he was familiar with from his own days within such establishments as Tsuberov. The overlying emotion he sensed permeating the atmosphere was exactly as he had expected it to be, and assured him this suite had been well used in the past. Stress leached from brilliant young minds pushed to the limits, only too aware of the pressure on them to perform to the expectations, and beyond, of family and teachers. The designers of Tsuberov might have gone to a great deal of trouble to ensure a pleasant environment, with all the amenities young people could wish for, but they pushed the expectation of excellence on their students.

//Yes, this is what I expected to find upstairs, the evidence of people living their day to day lives. This was missing, wiped out somehow, and its absence is most disturbing. In this suite it is strong enough that it may cause a problem for both Winner and Merquise. It is an old building, and it has seen many students pass through its halls. The stress levels are higher than I expected, and I will need to advise the establishment of the need for a dampening field, or Merquise certainly, most probably Winner as well, will not settle easily within these rooms. The head blind and less sensitive would not understand how trying on the nerves this residue could be. Their high empathic rating will see them hit by this atmosphere as soon as they enter the suite, and though I have not been privy to either of their test results, I expect they will be in at least the lower Prime readings. If Merquise is in the final months of his tenure here, he will need all of his attention on his work. This level of residue is a distraction he will not need.//

As a Prime level Telepathic Empath he was within his rights to advise the university staff of necessary precautions required to be taken for the good of a psychic trainee. Unless you could actually feel this residual emotional pollution, you could not fully appreciate the extent to which it could affect an individual with prolonged exposure. Since two of the three, soon to be residents of this suite, were high level empaths of Prime or near Prime level function, they would be particularly sensitive. It was his duty as a Prime to ease the way for up and coming potential talents wherever possible.

He was aware of Chang and Yuy standing at the door and discussing the security protocols they had been advised were in place. Later this day the students would return, and everything needed to be in place to disrupt their routine as little as possible. Studying at the levels of these elite students required a rigidly maintained schedule, to ensure all physical and mental obligations were met. From what he had thus far learned of Tsuberov, it was one of the more caring institutes for young Psi's. Of course it did help that the majority of the students here would be placed under contract to their own family corporations, and would in time become the heads of the greatest business empires and family conglomerates within the Earth Sphere. Money always ensured a better degree of care.

His slowly paced walk brought him to the bedrooms, and he paused in the doorway to the central room, the one he expected Zechs Merquise would be using on his arrival. Logically it made sense for the staff to arrange the bedrooms in the same order as they had been in the original suite. He stared at the double bed for a long moment, eyes narrowed at the brief flash within his mind of a memory not his own. No details, he had not been able to break through the block sufficiently for that, but the blurred impression of blood filled his mind. There was something more to be learned from Ms Bloom, and he would need to arrange another meeting with her.

//Blood? I am intrigued by why she thought of blood, when there was no suggestion of it in the forensic report. I know there is a more detailed report due, either tonight or tomorrow, but … why blood in this room and no impression of it from either of the other two bedrooms?//

A fleeting touch within her mind of that blurred deep crimson one naturally associated with blood, and fresh blood, not stale drying blood. No, there was something he was missing, and he needed to further pursue it. The block placed over her mind was a powerful thing, and it was something he would need time to circumvent if he did not wish to leave her with the intellect of a vegetable. It was probable he would require more than one more meeting with the woman to win through the controls placed over her recall, to shed light on this matter of stalkers and intruders.

It was a room like any other, slightly smaller in size than the other two bedrooms of the suite, just as that other suite it mirrored. As yet the personal effects of the three had not been transferred, so this was a blank canvas upon which none of the three had, as yet, placed their imprint. Winner's would be the largest room which was on the right hand side in the suite above, and on the left hand here. Merquise would have the centre and Maxwell the right hand suite.

//I wonder if the three chose that arrangement, or if they were assigned the individual bedrooms by the administration?//

Winner's was the largest of the three, Merquise the smallest and it was Merquise who was the oldest of the roommates, a fact he would have expected to ensure Merquise gained at least the second largest room. Was there a pecking order between the three? If so, was it affected by age, wealth or their natural personalities?

//Maxwell is a Sweeper brat, and I have found those tend to be forceful personalities. Not overly pushy, but assured of what they want and how to get it. Winner has had everything handed to him on a silver platter, much as most other wealthy industrialists children. By upbringing they expect to be first. Merquise …? Well, reportedly a street kid. Amid all of this evidence of wealth and privilege I would expect he would go in one of two directions. He would either dig in his heels, asserting the top tomcat personality until he is beaten into submission, or he would melt into the background. The 'I see you but you don't notice me, therefore I am safe' attitude. They are really an odd grouping.//

His foray into the mind of the security agent come housekeeper had revealed a reaction to all three bedrooms, not just to Merquis's. There had been a fleeting impression of consternation, which at first he had taken to be her reaction to the mess in Maxwell's room ,but which, he had learned, was in reaction to the existence of flowers. Or rather the stems of flowers. She had been quite adamant about that once he had made the initial break through. Stems, nothing more, and try as he might he had gotten no clear view of the room. He would try again later to see within her own memories what the room had looked like when she had first entered. Something had disturbed her about Winner's bedroom too, and he had been unable to pursue that avenue as her stress threshold had been reaching the critical point. Maxwell's room seemed to be his key to breaking into her deeper memories hidden by the block, and he could afford to wait for her to recover.

//Tomorrow, if possible, I will tackle Ms Bloom again. If I need to I will approach Une and have her in for a more formal and controlled reading, but even that will require exceptional care be taken with her. She is our only witness, and though she may not have seen the killing she saw enough to warrant her silence be assured. I will need to be careful no one suspects I want to talk with her, for more than security reasons.//

He had released Ms Bloom from his influence, taking particular care to remove all memory of his questioning, and had even laid a false impression of pique at repeated questions already answered in past interviews. Should the instigator of the mental block again touch her mind to check on the security of their work, he or she would not be warned of his presence.

Perhaps what disturbed him the most was the ease by which he had slipped past the implanted neural unit. It should have taken exacting care, and a great deal of time, to win his way past that unit, but it had been almost too easy to circumvent. It was possible she might have received a defective unit, but such devices were exactingly checked for quality control, as they had been known to short circuit and cause irreparable damage to the user. There was also the small matter that the devices were usually tested after implantation by certified psychics to ensure their protection was satisfactory. Tsuberov had enough of those to ensure the device was working upon her return to work.

//No, it's not the unit that is at fault. Not mechanically, anyway. She has to have been exposed to a powerful Suggestor's influence, that already had established a bypass to avoid the implants effects. Difficult, but not impossible to accomplish.//

A Telepathic Suggestor powerful enough to bypass the expensive neural unit employed on this occasion, and set within the memories of the wearer a false recall and have them believe it implicitly, was to say the least, worrying. For this to work it normally would require hours for the woman's true memories to be stripped from her totally, or be held behind powerful barriers to contain them. In the case of Catherine Bloom it appeared the second option was the correct one. Her original memories were held in a type of stasis field, and new memories implanted over those barriers. Not only had she had false memories implanted with sufficient force, and skill, as to be utterly believed by the subject, but an inhibitor also seemed to have been activated. Should the barrier be breached her mental well being was threatened, and any ethical Psi would be forced to back off.

//Such an implantation calls for a lot of talent, but more importantly it calls for time. I know of no Suggestor who could perform this level of work in less than ten to fifteen hours. You must go slowly and carefully, or chance the subject being damaged. In this case the perpetrator could not have had more than an hour, perhaps less, as she has a set routine of duties, and no one has mentioned she was late or missed entirely any portion of her schedule.//

As a Prime Telepath he was more than capable of placing inhibitors and memory blocks within a subject, and mapping out detailed false memories they would believe implicitly. He had encountered instances before where those particular talents were required to be exercised, both in training and in real life situations, but somehow this instance felt subtly different. There was something about the woman's mind, something he could not place a name to, but it worried him enough to leave him concerned for her safety and mental well being. One thing he could sense was it had taken a great deal of power to create the block, but he detected a disturbing lack of finesse. It suggested the work had been accomplished by a powerful, but inexperienced, Suggestor.

A disturbing combination.

//Considering I am currently standing in a complex full of high potential, but ill-trained, psychics it will not be easy, I think, to point a finger.//

Perhaps the worst thing about the matter was when he took into account the modified memories of the woman, and the lack of psychic residue within the suite. He was left with an uneasy concern about exactly what they were facing there. It took a high level of psychic ability to wipe out years of residual impressions, but what was worse was the absence of the murder itself from that record.

Murder was a violent emotion, whether it was based on hate, love or passion, and it left a powerful imprint on the atmosphere of a room. A telepathic investigator usually required the assistance of a high level empath to map out the individual residue of a room, or objects, past. The two working together could then, if it was required, exorcise the imprint from a room or item. Disturbingly there had been nothing selective about the incident, not just an item, or a single place in the room, had had its residue modified. The entire suite had been wiped clean, leaving it with less personality than a newly constructed building would have acquired from its builders. That screamed of power.

//We are dealing with more than we suspect. It is early in the investigation, and as yet we are missing too much to make a detailed assessment, but I don't think this case will be straightforward.//

The entire case could hinge on the memories of Catherine Bloom. Having placed his own carefully modified memories in place to obscure his true interaction with her, he had, for the moment, done the best he could. If Ms Bloom was undisturbed by his probing, and indeed generated a small amount of frustration at having had her time wasted, he had done the best he could to ensure her safety in the short term. If her assailant was not alerted to his suspicions they surely had time to unravel this Celtic knot of a puzzle.

He had requested she escort them to the new suite arranged for the students, to satisfy their curiosity and the requirements of the students security. The polite request had drawn a somewhat tart comment on the male of the species being unable to find their way out of a paper bag, which had settled his mind to no end. It was the catch phrase he had hung on the false memories he had implanted, and he waved aside his partner's indignant response, satisfied, and ushered everyone out of the suite.

On the way downstairs Yuy, who had ignored her rather abrasive nature to date, had requested she detail the security arrangements in place to ensure the Winner heir's safety. There was very little in the way of niceties between the two, but so long as they maintained their professionalism Treize decided to stay out of the mix. He was not about to play with the woman and have her believe she loved the agent. A little bit of friendly competition between security agencies never hurt anyone. What was of concern to him was that while they searched out the murderer, the three young men be safe.

Ms Bloom had explained the alterations in the security systems en route and, on arriving at the suite, she had excused herself to oversee the preparations to remove the boy's possessions. Her abrupt request permission be given for such a move, or the boys would find themselves standing on the pavement after dark, was met with a glare from Yuy and grudging permission being granted.

"Somebody must have interrupted something." Chang's voice drew the Prime's attention.

"That is not in doubt, what is of concern is whether it was a burglar looking for loot, or a love struck student." Yuy perched on one of the stools at the breakfast bar. "It is more than possible it was a student with stalker tendencies."

"The flowers suggest we can rule out a burglar. There is no reason I can think of for an intruder to leave flowers other than a romantic assignation being planned." Chang mused. "I know of no instances where a burglar leaves flowers as a calling card."

With his psychic inspection concluded Treize made his way to join the other men at the breakfast bar, and himself settled on a stool beside Yuy.

"There was a bouquet of flowers in the kitchen, and from her memory they were placed on the sink. Lying so …" He gestured toward the sink, indicating how the flowers had been laid out. "Still in their wrapper and no, I do not recall any identifying logos for a florist. I will have to delve a little deeper into her mind to clearly catch such details."

Yuy sighed. Of course things could not be so simple. Chang rubbed absently at the bridge of his nose and looked about the lounge, imagining what it would be like to live in a place such as this.

"While her memory was not clear by any means, I did glimpse Maxwell's bed briefly. The bed was strewn with the stems of roses. There were few leaves that I noted on the stems. Merquise's room … well, I just caught the wash of blood red from her mind. To have pushed harder would only have caused her damage, and perhaps destroyed the memory entirely. I think there must have been perhaps a dozen long stemmed red roses in the bouquet in the kitchen. One must presume they were intended for Winner's bed, but would one be correct with that assumption?"

"The stems in one room, and blood in the second room, perhaps it was some sort of oblique warning? Something to the effect of 'hands off Winner, he's mine'?" Yuy suggested.

Chang sighed and shrugged slowly stretching cramped muscles. The day was far from over, and he was beginning to feel the effects of a headache. Something was off about this entire business, and he personally was looking forward to going home for the day. Sally always seemed to know how best to soothe his thoughts, and often bring him to inspirational insights.

"Winner would appear to be into boys if that magazine is anything to go by. Of course it might have belonged to one of the other two students, and he may only have been curious. It may have been a warning to them to keep their hands to themselves, if they are considered a threat. Blood in Merquise's room would suggest he is considered the larger threat. It would help if we knew with certainty which way Winner swings, and if he has anyone showing marked romantic interest in him."

"Well, I venture to suggest we go with caution there. The Winners are powerful and something of a dynasty. He is the only male heir and has twenty-nine sisters. That he is a catch is not in doubt. It might be more than frowned on if he should be shown to be homosexual in the course of the investigation, and he has not revealed his sexuality to his family." Treize knew from personal experience how well some families would greet that news.

"Discretion will be required." Chang agreed. "The problem is we do not actually know what our corpse was." At Yuy's arched eyebrow he shrugged. "Was he a burglar? Might he have been the stalker? If the stalker was the killer or the victim has yet to be determined."

Yuy rubbed at his temples. "I am almost afraid to consider either option exclusively. It is viable whichever way you look at it, but I have to ask myself what in the suite would warrant a burglar's interest?"

"There have been petty thefts at the University in the last few months. Nothing expensive really, certainly nothing I would consider valuable on anything other than a personal level. It could even be a protest action, or a cry for help." Wu Fei stood and began to pace the length of the lounge, slow and even steps, an aid to concentration.

"Possibly unrelated to what went on in the suite, though if it is unrelated to the killing, where does that leave us?"

"There is more to this than we are seeing." Treize murmured. "From my point of view the facts are as follows. It took a high level telekinetic to stop the victim's heart, and a very high level telekinetic ability to make the body fit in the refrigerator. Likewise it would take an extremely high telepathic talent to circumvent the neural unit fitted to Ms Bloom. Now by high I imply a near Prime talent, and the Suggestor's ability would also have to be near, or into, the Prime talent range to cover her memories so effectively of the incident. Now there is the matter of the suite being wiped of emotional residue to be considered. Our highest Prime Telepaths and Empaths, working together, could not have accomplished that feat in a short time. Yes, it is possible for us to do it, but it would take days to wipe an entire suite of psychic residue. I believe you will concur the killer did not have hours, let alone days, in which to accomplish this feat. Much as I hate to say it, I have to be honest about this. It takes an unknown force to wipe out the entire emotional signature accumulated in a room that has been in constant use for as long as the suites in this building. Taking these facts into account I have to suggest we may not be dealing with a single talented individual. If it should prove we are dealing with one person then, quite honestly gentlemen, I don't particularly want to meet them."

"More than one person involved? Wonderful." Yuy whispered. With a soft groan he stood and stretched cramped back muscles and rotated his left shoulder. "A possible stalker who may, or not, be dead and who, if he is alive, might be a high level telekinetic and telepath. A wonderful combination to consider finding amid a University crammed to overflowing with high level talents. Not to mention the room wiping episode, which I have to take on trust, since I am as head blind as you can get. The room feels like any other room to me. I would really like to consider I am in pursuit of one person, you know, instead of hunting a pack of rabid whatsits. Is the stalker alive or dead? If the stalker is dead, who is the murderer and what was he, she, or it doing in the suite?"

"I would think the stalker is alive, if it is a stalker we are dealing with." Chang decided. "It could always have been a student prank gone horribly wrong. Someone altered the Bloom woman's memories of her morning's activities. Someone tidied up the suite after them, removing any evidence that might point to them. The DNA evidence will remove from our suspect list those who have lived in the suite, and have a legitimate reason to have entered it. I can not believe the perpetrator could remove such evidence."

"The DNA evidence will, unfortunately, take a week or more to process and eliminate names from our list, and there is always the small chance there will be no DNA on record to match."

"Oh come now, Treize, everyone in this day and age is DNA tested shortly after birth. The odds on finding an unregistered individual are astronomical."

"So are the odds of finding a person crammed into a refrigerator in a kitchen unused for months." Treize tartly returned.

"This whole thing does not make sense. The murder took place sometime through the night, and the body was discovered soon after eight this morning by Ms Bloom. Forensics will give us a more exact time reference for the man's death. It is even possible the body may have had nothing to do with any stalker. It is equally as feasible Ms Bloom surprised a student in the midst of some idiotic prank who panicked, altered her memories and cleaned up after themselves and bolted." Yuy sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. "Well, it's just as plausibly outlandish as the other scenarios." He moved to the kitchen and paused, glaring at the fridge. "Why would a stalker stuff a body in a refrigerator?"

Treize agreed. Little in this case thus far made sense, and he found himself staring at the duplicate of the offending refrigerator. Too many of the questions hinged on matters of psychic ability, and were not the usual questions they might find themselves entertaining in a murder investigation. It was, after all, most uncommon to find a woman with a very expensive neural implant with a host of forged memories. The matter of the psychic anomalies associated with this case already worried him, and he knew Yuy could not appreciate the dangers that might be involved in pursuing the perpetrator.

"It is possible the John Doe walked in on the stalker." Kushrenada rose from the stool, pressed a hand into his protesting back, and moved to settle on the couch. Finding this a far more comfortable location he crossed his legs neatly and tilted his head back to consider the ceiling with narrowed eyes. "A logical progression would be if John Doe intruded on a stalking ritual, such as placing the flowers about the suite as a means to welcome back Winner. If this was the case, and the stalker was a kinetic of considerable talent, it might be reasonable to assume the stalker was startled and struck out without intending to. Conjecture, of course, but what else do we have at the moment? The stalker would have a body to dispose of."

"Which he, or she, disposed of by stuffing John Doe into the fridge for someone, perhaps even his or her light of love, to find." Chang continued and shook his head to show he doubted the scenario.

"It has been known to happen before." Yuy looked thoughtful, though it was clear he was doubtful. At this stage of the investigation all they could do was speculate, and it was best to cover all possibilities. "There was an instance shortly after I was registered to operate as an investigator, where a stalker killed a burglar in his would-be lover's flat. He considered the intruder to be threatening his obsession, and left a note to that effect. He claimed he would always protect her from anyone and everyone who might threaten her."

"No notes here." Chang commented. "It would have simplified matters had there been one."

"Perhaps there was not enough time?" Treize mused. "It makes a warped kind of sense. There has been that series of thefts in the University after all. Perhaps he or she determined to protect the interests of his/her infatuation from all types of harm. They considered theft to be included in their definition of a threat."

"Which would indicate Winner is the love interest. The other two boys get dismembered roses and blood in the bed, as a warning to stay away from his light of love. Would the blood in Merquise's bedroom indicate Merquise is considered to be the greater threat?" Chang draped himself over the breakfast bar, frowning in concentration.

"It does make a warped sense." Yuy agreed. "We would need to locate the bloodied bedding from the room, and determine what was slaughtered to supply the blood. That can add to the profile of the killer. The initial forensic report never mentioned evidence of blood in the bedroom. I may need them to check the room again for evidence. It is unlikely in the clean up of the room the stalker would have changed the mattress, as well as the bedding. Someone would have reported a missing mattress by now, if that was the case."

"Which would indicate the threat level to the other two boys has risen a few notches. If Winner should prove to be homosexual, or even bisexual, and there is a relationship developing with either of the other two, it could turn nasty. The stalker would not approve of the competition, and may develop a mind to remove it." Chang speculated

Yuy frowned, considering the level of danger that might face either of the two students rooming with Quatre Winner. He did not like the idea and glanced at the telepath. "Maxwell got a bed full of rose stems. You should have hung on a little longer for a more clear answer on whether or not the thorns were still attached to the stems."

Treize rubbed at his temples in a vain attempt to ease the throbbing, as much a residue of his using his talent to read the agent, as the lingering after effects of his activities during his former case. "I had to let her go. Circumventing the neural unit implant places a strain on the individual, and breaking through the block itself was stressing both her and me beyond tolerable safety levels. I can always have another, hopefully longer session with her. After we are both rested and less stressed I would expect the session should be easier. Certainly it should be easier on her to circumvent the conditioning itself, if not piercing the veil placed over her memories."

"I think we still have a great many problems as yet unconsidered. There are probably questions we have, as yet, not thought to ask. Primary amongst my concerns is the idea of an individual running loose in the university, with the ability and strength in both the psychokinetic field and the telepathic disciplines. This individual has the capacity to commit murder, and has done so, as well as taken the additional step of modifying the woman's memories. We can not take anything she has said in her statement as being a true recollection of events. If we have to doubt her report I wonder if we can even trust the time she stated she entered the room." Yuy rubbed at his upper thighs, digging his thumbs into muscle in a subconscious gesture he had developed during his training, a nervous response he had not, as yet, trained himself out of.

"One of many questionable statements made to us thus far. Who is to say others may not have had their memories modified?" Treize rested his head against the back of the couch and closed his eyes. "I am inclined to believe we are missing something obvious here, but for the life of me it eludes me. Supposition: If the stalker should be the kinetic who killed, would he have completed his task, namely setting out his welcome for Winner? How obsessed is this individual? That is a point that may lead to more killings if obsession leads to something more. Why stop at one killing to achieve his or her goal? Ms Bloom has recalled there were flowers on the sink in the kitchen, and we know there were other flowers, dismembered and being placed in the other bedrooms. Or were there?"

Chang rolled his eyes toward his partner and buried his head in his arms, still draped over the breakfast bar. "You are about to add more confusion to this already confusing case, yes?"

"Well, there were stems in Maxwell's room, though we have not as yet found physical evidence of them. There was the impression of blood in Merquise's room, though again we have found no evidence beyond her confused and altered memories. What about Winner's room? I have the impression there was something in there that disturbed her. For that matter where was John Doe when he was killed? In the kitchen? Perhaps in the lounge, or in one of the bedrooms? Did Ms Bloom see the actual killing, or did she come in some time later? Did the kill happen, deliberate and cold-blooded, or accidental, then the body was stuffed in the refrigerator and … what then? Simply walk away as though nothing happened? Does the stalker have the ability to wipe the psychic impressions from a room, a strong enough telekinetic talent to stop a man's heart, and is a telepath with a Suggestor's ability of sufficient strength to circumvent a neural unit? I know I have already stated this, but I will say it again. I am not looking forward to facing him, or her."

Yuy sighed and dropped his head, but raised a hand index finger, pointed and inscribed a circle in the air, repeatedly tracing its path. "Around and around. I'm fed up with seeing the same scenery. We need a new thought in here."

Chang snorted indelicately, and after a moment of silence from his partner he straightened, pushing away from the bar and stalked around its length, and moved toward the main door.

"You wish a new thought, Agent Yuy? Perhaps this will help the equation. There were three people in the suite other than Ms Bloom through the night. Yes, three, the victim plus two others. I think I prefer that idea to one psychic with so much potential."

Treize stood slowly, a frown deepening as he turned to watch his partner, who paused at the door, turning to see the reaction of his fellows. "You suggest the stalker was surprised by the burglar, and killed him with a psychokinetic blast or a squeeze on his heart, to stop it beating?"

Chang nodded, a short sharp movement. Kushrenada sighed softly and resisted the urge to scream in frustration.

"The kill was accomplished, deliberately or accidentally and then … What? The stalker was in turn frightened off by someone else entering the suite? Someone with the ability to wipe out the impressions in the room because … Why?"

Chang shrugged. "They did not wish their presence to be discerned by any psychic who might have been brought in by the authorities? I have no idea. It was just a theory I thought I would mention, as Yuy wanted something else to think of." He smirked at Yuy who scowled at him. "A theory like all of the other theories we have kicked around thus far. At this stage of the investigation that is all we have to play with. Nothing about this case makes sense to me. So, where do we go from here?"

Treize shook his head slightly, amused and glanced at Yuy, who cast a look about the room and with a faint shrug moved to join Chang at the door.

"I think it time to move to the techniques of basic investigating. We need to check on the surveillance cameras for the dorm block, discern which ones cover the access points to the suite, and watch the footage. We should make a note of every person who used the hallway leading to the suite, and especially anyone who used it after lights out." Yuy decided. "There is also the surveillance footage that covers the stairwell behind the garbage cupboard."

"As good as anything I suppose, and it is a place to start." Chang agreed. "Do you know the layout of the cameras, and how many of them cover the approach to the upper floor?"

"There are three cameras covering the hallway, another seven covering the main hall and entry to the dormitory block, and three on the fire escape. There are also the exterior cameras covering the approaches to the front and rear doors." Yuy threw the door open and stepped out into the hallway, Chang on his heels.

Treize followed the younger men from the room at a more sedate pace, his sapphire gaze flicking up and scanning the hallway to place the cameras for this dormitory level, and wondered if they mirrored the placement on the floor above. If they did, then the hallway was rather well covered, and they should have no difficulty identifying every person who had walked the hall.

//Chang may have been joking, but it is actually a reasonable theory. There having been more than one psychic involved in the incident makes more sense than just one person having such talent. A single perpetrator would suggest the emergence of a Super Psi, and should they be insane, unstable or just plain evil natured, we could be in a great deal of trouble. The theory of them existing as our numbers increase and our abilities develop, has been bandied about for a score or more years. Someone of an unscrupulous nature, with that amount of talent … No one would be safe from them.//

He followed through the dormitory building, down the sweeping curve of the staircase and out into the grounds. Yuy and Chang paused for him to catch up to them, and neither disturbed his thoughts by questioning him.

//No, I think I prefer the notion there were at least two psychics in the suite. Prefer being the word of note, of course. The room was wiped to eradicate the identity of those involved, or to wipe out the unmistakable imprint of violence. Was the intent only to remove the murder and the degree of power needed so badly overestimated? The room has been wiped and it is no accident. Any competent telepath, or empath, would feel the difference immediately on entering. //

The security control room for the dorm was in a smaller building hidden from the main complex of the University by a thick belt of flowering trees and extensive flower plantings. The walk from the dormitory block was pleasant, and the psychic atmosphere that had so pleased Treize served once more to ease his thundering headache to manageable proportions. He took his time, making no effort to walk with Yuy or Chang, and neither of the two seemed inclined to hurry. He presumed they each were busy with their thoughts on the murder, and he was not inclined to peek. He had enough gloomy thoughts of his own without seeking out others.

It was a modern building though, it was given a cosmetic facade to blend in with the older, grander style of the buildings within walking distance. The reception foyer was staffed by two women, each in their late thirties, and two security guards were entering through a door requiring an electronic key as they entered. Yuy and Chang had delayed before entering until Treize joined them, and at Chang's discreetly arched eyebrow in silent inquiry as to his state of mind, he nodded to indicate he was ready to progress to the next stage.

Yuy cleared them through reception, a brief flash of his identity card being sufficient to straighten the spines of both women, who respectfully requested the identity cards of his companions. Chang was subjected to a respectful nod and Treize to a long and wide-eyed look. He knew that look only too well and ignored it, not of a mind to entertain something he thought of as celebrity status. Primes were rare, and you could not expect one to turn up on your doorstep unannounced every day.

"Mr. Otto will meet you in the inner offices, Sir."

Yuy nodded briefly, accepted the visitors pass and waited for the other two men to receive their passes, before moving to the interior door. A swipe of the card let them enter the room beyond, where a security guard received their passes with a somewhat startled blink, but no other reaction to the identity of the two Psychics, and indicated the short hallway leading to another door.

"I know the way." Yuy gruffly muttered and led the way down the hall and into a large busy office. For all the look of the room reminded Chang of the upper levels of the Agency there was a quieter, more laid back atmosphere here. Half the work stations were unattended, and of those who were present none seemed to be exercising frustration or particularly intense concentration on their duties. The door opposite the one they entered by opened and a tall man, solidly built with dark curly hair and intense eyes motioned them toward him.

"Heinrich Otto." Yuy murmured as they crossed the room, weaving through the desks and ignoring the curious looks directed at them "Security Chief for the entire university."

Otto offered his hand to Yuy as they approached, and cast a curious glance at his companions. Yuy accepted the handshake and inclined his head slightly to indicated his companions.

"Heinrich Otto, Chang Wu Fei, consulting representative of The Agency. Mr. Chang is the Psychokinetic of the team."

Otto bowed respectfully, making no move to shake the man's hand. The bow was just low enough to offer respect and not subservience. Chang returned the bow with the exact same amount of respect reflected, and Otto inclined his head slightly, a more personal greeting. Treize Kushrenada recognized a diplomat when he saw one, and Otto had more than a little skill in that field. He was well versed in more than European culture, hardly a surprise considering the mix of nationalities of the students who attended Tsuberov.

"Prime Treize Kushrenada, the Telepathic Empath of the team." Yuy concluded his introduction.

He had no doubt Otto would recognize the reference to the Agency. In his line of work the Agency would be only too well known. A cross between Guardian Angels and the Boogie Man was generally how the Agency was viewed.

Otto blinked, eyed Treize with open curiosity and did not offer his hand, instead bowing with just a shade more depth to the action than he had used before. He knew high level Telepaths rarely shared touch with strangers, and if the desire to do so was there, then the Telepath would be the one to initiate the contact.

"Your Grace." He straightened, inclined his head at Treize's acknowledging nod at his greeting, and the confirmation he knew of his social standing outside of his position as a Prime Talent. "I was not notified of the Agency being involved in the investigation, Mr. Yuy."

Otto looked impressed, and more than a little intrigued, by the unexpected arrival of two high level Psychic investigators appearing on his doorstep. He had called in the ESUN Security Agency considering the implications of the identity of one of the youths possibly involved in the murder, but no one had notified him the Agency had been consulted. Treize had the impression the man was not too pleased, though he made no move to betray his displeasure. It was something his empathy picked up, and he was hardly surprised considering other, much more volatile reactions, he had known in the past to the Agency entering an investigation.

"The Agency will be working liaison with the Security Office, and were requested to participate by my superiors. Considering the forensic evidence thus far gathered, it was decided the specialist services on offer from the Agency would be required to speed the investigation along."

Otto nodded and turned, leading the way through the door and down a long hallway. "This way, please. We will use my office to lessen the chances of anyone overhearing us."

No one felt the need for casual conversation, and they were silent as they made their way through the complex. Occasionally security personnel would pass them, and the three investigating agents were only too aware of the curious looks cast their way. Otto turned down a side hallway and opened a door to a roomy office, motioning the three inside.

The Security Chief drew three chairs up to face the desk before settling himself down in the large leather chair and sighed as they settled before him. His desk, while neat, was cluttered with reports in orderly piles, an odd assortment of ornaments ranging from frogs carrying signs to a dolphin leaping from a spray of water, and a closed laptop computer.

"Bad business, this."

Treize arched an eyebrow. "I imagine John Doe would agree with you."

Otto smirked, shaking his head slightly. "So, what details can I help you with? I made the decision to call in the Security Agency considering who generally stays in that room, but I did not consider it would be necessary for a group of the Agency's reputation to be involved. So far we have managed to keep the murder under wraps, but there is a force at work here that is unstoppable, and I am afraid it will very soon get out of hand."

Yuy scowled and Chang stirred restlessly in his seat. "What have you not informed me of? Who is involved?" Yuy looked decidedly unhappy.

"Students gossip, Mr. Yuy. The more one tries to keep a secret around here, the more chance there is someone will notice, and then the whispers and speculation start and leaks back to the families. Some of those families are not known for their tolerance of what amounts to a rare instance occurring near their offspring. I will be honest when I say we have not had a murder committed on the ground since the University was founded. It is not sitting well with the Board of Governors."

"Rare, and decidedly unpleasant as it is, it has happened, and we need time to investigate." Yuy displayed no concern for the feelings of the governing body of the school. "The first thing we need to do is to see the surveillance tapes for the dormitory block. We will require someone be there to identify every person who entered the dorm that day, and especially after night fell."

"I know you have cameras covering the entrance to the garbage collection, but by any chance do you have the interior of the stairwell under surveillance?" Chang interjected.

//That garbage disturbs him.// Treize glanced at his partner. //He is like a dog worrying a bone, and the sooner he sees footage and assures himself of the security arrangements the better.//

"The garbage?" Otto arched an eyebrow, stared at Chang for a moment before he shrugged. "The inner stairwell the contractors use to collect the refuse is under surveillance, of course, and also the parking area where they leave their vehicles. I am well aware of the need to keep the inner stairwells secure, Mr. Chang. Every outlet door from the individual suites has an alarm installed, which will sound should the doors be opened from the stairwell side. The doors are designed to be opened only from the interior of the apartments as an added security measure, and a key card is required for anyone to access the stairwell from the ground floor. The garbage is collected every Wednesday evening, between the hours of five and seven pm. One of my people always accompanies each of the crews as they do their rounds, and only the guard in attendance can use the key card. The key cards are gene-sequence coded, and anyone who stole one would be unable to use it."

"How many are in the crews?" Yuy queried.

Otto leaned back in his seat and shrugged diffidently. "There are four people per truck, and three trucks service the entire University complex."

//Wednesday for the collection means the garbage is not due to be collected until tomorrow night.// Treize allowed his gaze to wander absently about the room, admiring the collection of artwork and photographs adorning the walls. //So the garbage was not changed as a part of the usual routine. We need to find what was removed from that suite, and that includes the bloodied bedding stripped from Merquise's bed.//

"How many people have key cards to that stairwell?" Chang inquired, watching the security agent with a hooded gaze.

//You can see your pet theory about to be shot down.// Treize hid his amusement. //Gene-sequenced cards are impossible to use unless you share the same DNA as is encoded into the sensors. One would have to chop off the hand of the registered user to use the card.//

"There is one active card per dorm block, plus the master card which is locked in the safe here at all times, accessible only by me. The other cards are handed out to the security guards assigned to accompany the refuse collectors when they arrive, and not before. In the event of illness keeping a cleared guard from carrying out his duties, a backup optical card is activated, enabling a stand in to fulfill the duties of the sick guard. The guards are not to give up the key cards to anyone else in the course of their duties, despite the fact no one else can use them. Both the genetic coding and the optical sequencing are expensive procedures, and the Board of Governors winces every time I hand them an expense sheet for the security of this place. The optical cards used as stand in are coded so only the designated user can access them, and are stored in my secure safe when not in use. If by some chance both the regular assigned guard, and the stand by guard, are absent at the same time, I use the Master Key and personally accompany the garbage collectors. If the wrong person has the card the key simply will not work. I am sure you know as well as I do that short of chopping off a person's hand, or plucking out their eyeball, the card systems are secure. I assure you I have no one-handed, or one-eyed, personnel running around the university."

Treize fixed his eyes on the painting on the wall directly behind Otto's desk. After a moment he allowed his gaze to move on, noting the heavy oak desk, an antique unless he badly missed his guess, and the laptop on its surface was an extremely powerful and expensive model with a wireless modem. He took particular note of the small black box attached to the back of the laptop, recognizing it as a rather surprising security feature. Why would the security chief of a University, even one as elite as Tsuberov, use a scrambler on his laptop?

//Curious. The office itself is well appointed, and more along the lines of what I would expect to find in a high-powered executive's office than a security commander's rooms. I wish I had so comfortable a workspace.//

Even Chang had to admit it was unlikely access to the suite had been achieved through the garbage door and the inner stairwell. He might admit it was unlikely, but that would not stop him from checking out the stairwell himself just to be certain. He would endeavor to circumvent the security procedures personally, and use his Psychic talents to aid that endeavor, but for the moment he would allow the matter to drop. He would review the camera footage from the approach points and the interior of the stairwell before making his next move.

Treize found his gaze once again returning to the painting hanging behind the Security Commander's desk. A well fashioned frame, tasteful and of a style that would not detract the eye from the main subject of the painting and was, if he was correct in his assumption, worth a small fortune in its own right. The painting was of a pastoral scene with snow-capped mountains in the background, and a glimmer of deep blue-green sea to one side of the thatch roofed farmhouse depicted. It appeared to be harvest time in the painting, with a huge cart piled high with wheat, and drawn by two massive heavy horses. Small children laughed and played as men tossed wheat sheaf's into the cart.

"You have good taste in artwork, Commander." He murmured. "Is that not an original Klimbert?"

Yuy blinked and glanced at the Prime, wondering, no doubt, what a painting had to do with the investigation. Chang shook his head and ignored the painting, glaring at him briefly for the interruption. Treize suspected he was silently commenting on the foibles of the aristocracy once again.

Otto glanced behind him and his smile widened as he studied the pastoral scene. "It is one of the advantages of working for Tsuberov, I suppose, a tasteful office. I only wish the painting was mine, Your Grace. It belongs to the University, and is a part of their extensive collection. My predecessor was something of an art connoisseur, and I inherited it when I took over his position."

//Rather an expensive inheritance, and just who was your predecessor, I wonder, to warrant such a decoration in his workplace?// "But are you not from Sanc?" Treize inquired quietly, never taking his eyes from the Security Chief..

Otto arched an eyebrow and glanced at the Prime. "Yes, I was born and reared in Sanc, though it has been many years since I was home. How did you know?"

"That you were from Sanc, or the painting depicts a scene from Sanc's past?" Treize smiled his most charming smile, ignoring Chang's eye rolling.

He was curious, and his partner should know him better by now than to dismiss him as just another aristocrat showing off their knowledge. Nothing he said, or did, was without reason.

"Your accent, faint though it is, is quite distinctive. I have not been to Sanc since I was a child, but I clearly recall watching the harvest when I was last there. They still prefer to harvest by hand, I believe?"

Otto chuckled, relaxing back into his seat. "Indeed, I believe they do. I prefer to think of Sanc as not so much being backward, or against the advances of technology, but of a more back to nature attitude. It is a very peaceful place."

Yuy growled softly, a barely audible sound, though it drew the eye of each of the three men. "I beg your pardon, but I believe we have more to do than admire old artwork, and talk about how to plough the fields." He rumbled.

Otto grinned, quite unrepentant, and seemed to have enjoyed annoying the Security Agent, a fact that was not missed by Chang or Treize. The man shook his head slightly, but other than that small movement he ignored the smaller, younger man.

"Mr. Yuy is obviously not one to appreciate the arts." Treize murmured, in no way apologizing for his sidetracking, or for Yuy's attitude. "I personally would not object to having a painting valued, I believe, in the vicinity of three million credits, hanging on my office wall."

"Where would be safer for it than hanging in the office of the security chief?" Otto laughed. "I don't mind, I assure you, that they left it here when I took on the position. If I was still working in the palace I would not have the opportunity to view such a masterpiece, and certainly not on a daily basis. It would be locked in some temperature controlled vault, where no one could enjoy the talents of the only master artist Sanc has produced in the last six hundred years. Such a waste that would be."

Yuy sighed and rubbed at his eyes, having the distinct impression if he did not change the topic and force them back to the task at hand, they would still be sitting here at sunset discussing art. "Gentlemen, please, I am tired and the day is more than half over, and we have a great deal of work to do. Can we not get on with this?"

"Of course, Mr. Yuy." Otto grinned and rose from his seat, motioning toward the door. "The security station for the dorm block you want is down the hall. I will escort you, and see that you are set up comfortably in one of the offices."

Treize stood with the others, his gaze once again sweeping around the office, and as Otto passed him he took the opportunity to more closely study the cluster of photographs placed below, and to one side, of the painting. Each photograph was of a group of men wearing uniforms that differed in each photo, and he knew it to be a rogue's gallery. Otto's past, his memories of past employment. Some were official group shots, and others of a more casual nature, looking to be taken at parties, and a few taken at more formal social functions. He allowed Otto to lead them out of the office and stepped back to allow Yuy to pass, and then Chang, who shot him a pointed look to which he grinned, unrepentant. Could he help it if he had an eye for the classics? A masterwork by an artist six hundred years dead was not something one saw every day. Nor, he mused, did one find an ex-Imperial Guard from the Sanc Royal Palace working at a University so far from his home.

//I will place a request for Otto's file, and see why an Imperial Guard would give up his commission to work here. I wonder if I can get access to the University's museum. I would like to discover what other gems they have stored here.//

t.b.c.

Karina Robertson 2006


	6. Chapter 6

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 6/??

//…// Thoughts

/.../+ Telepathy

Chapter Six

"They say in Luxembourg there is the greatest shopping center on Earth."

"No, no. Paris. Can you imagine a shopping spree in Paris?"

"Ah, Paris! I've heard so much about it. City of Romance."

"Get a life."

"Oh, listen to you. You can't tell me you are not excited about this trip. The greatest cities on Earth and we get to visit them."

"It's not a holiday, you idiot, so stop treating it like one and give us all a rest from your voice."

"Look who's talking, Miss-know-it-all. Which teacher died and made you our supervisor?"

"Shove it right where it hurts, Sienna."

"Keep it down, Ladies, and keep it clean."

"Yes, Ms Rogers."

Peace.

If only for thirty seconds before it began again with little in the way of variation.

"Man, will I be glad to stretch my legs." A massive yawn interrupted any further comment and was followed by a heavy sigh. Slender black clad arms stretched, and fisted hands punched the air, before the slim fingers uncurled and wriggled then expanded, hands inclining palms to the ceiling of the cabin to work his wrists. "Traveling sucks."

"Traveling sucks? This from a Sweeper?" Quatre Raberba Winner flashed a million credit grin at the young man seated to his left. "You will not do so well amid the Sweepers if that is your view of travel, Duo. After all, traveling is all Sweepers do!"

Duo Maxwell snorted and presented his pale blonde companion with 'the finger' accompanying his wide grin to demonstrate his amusement. He was a Sweeper and had been from the day a Sweeper Captain had come upon a small child crouching in the ashes of a burned out building. No one picking through the smoldering ruin had paid attention to the child in the half hour Howard had been present, and he had claimed the child for the Sweepers. Duo had heard the story time and again, embellished each time by those who told it, until the current version resembled something from a fairy tale. He wondered sometimes if anyone knew the truth of what had happened anymore.

Sweepers seemed to be incurable romantics at heart.

Around them the rising murmur of conversation fluctuated, rising to new heights and then falling into a lull though the quiet was never for more than a few seconds at best. The flight had seemed longer than it ought, owing to the boisterous behavior of their guests. For the most part Duo and his companions had been left alone after the initial curiosity exercised over his well known companion's identity.

He was amused, not offended by Quatre's comments. They had been what he thought best described as 'best mates' for two years, and each took every opportunity to rag the other over their individual pasts. He was a Sweeper brat, and his friend was from one of the wealthiest families in the Earth Sphere and normally they would never have met, let alone socialized, on a daily basis.

"Common myth." Duo waved a hand airily in a dismissive gesture, unable to hide his broad grin.

"Myth?" Quatre queried, trying to close out the noise level in the shuttle by concentrating on his companion and their conversation. "What about the Sweepers could possibly be construed as myth? Everyone knows what Sweepers do."

Duo could always be relied on for entertainment, particularly if he was bored, and long flights in circumstances such as these were guaranteed to provide them with little in the way of entertainment. The noise level in the crowded shuttle was not conducive to studying, and there was little else they could do.

The in-flight entertainment left a great deal to be desired overall, and Quatre determined to bring the subject up with his father. There had to be something the Winner could do to improve the amusement level on long haul shuttle flights. Experience had taught him there was nothing his father could not influence, if he turned his mind to it. It was just a matter of bringing The Winner's attention to bear on the desired fault.

"Yeah? You think? There is this myth out there," He waved a hand in the general direction of space. "Sweepers do nothing but travel around in their ships, and think up ways to annoy the Trade Conglomerates. Well, yeah, I'll admit that much is true, we do like to stick it to the big consortiums, including your daddy, but hey, who could afford to run a ship like that? If we just bopped around and talked all the time how the hell would we keep the ships going? Believe me, Kitty dearest, we do a whole lot no one knows about."

"Like smuggling?" Quatre smirked at his friend and wiggled his eyebrows. "Have you been on any smuggling runs, Duo? Come on, you can tell me. I won't tell another soul."

Duo thumped his head back against the head rest and chortled. "Where do you get all this drivel from Kitty Kat? Sweepers are not smugglers any more than Winner Enterprises is a pawn broker."

"Pawn Brokers!" Quatre stared at the boy with wide aquamarine eyes and burst out laughing.

Thanking whatever spirits might rule space for his friend's entertainment value to relieve the tedium of the flight, Quatre half turned to place his back to the cabin in general and gave his concentration to Duo. Soon enough they would be off this shuttle and free of the antics, and endless loud conversations, of the students who were a last minute addition to the flight.

"Pawn Brokers indeed. I must remember to mention that to my father and sisters. They no doubt could do with the laugh."

"Hey, you know me, I try to please. Sweepers are businessmen, just like Winner Enterprises, only we operate independently out of space ships, instead of office buildings. We are free to take ourselves where opportunity knocks, and that places us as far out as the new station being built over Mars. Not even Winner Enterprises has managed to get out there yet."

Quatre flashed a grin and cocked his head to the side. "Oh yeah? You think?"

Duo considered the youth seated beside him for a long moment and then shook his head. "Hey, it's a government operation, not open to business interests until…" He paused, considering the ever widening grin turned on him and sighed. "Okay, maybe I'm wrong. If anyone could manage to wiggle into that restricted area of space, it would be your dad. What did he do? Corner the market in paper cups for the water coolers?"

"Why not? He has the market cornered in just about everything else, so paper cups should be no exception."

Winner Enterprises had been operating on Earth in varied forms for the last two hundred years, and expanded into space with the construction of the first of the colonies. A family concern from humble beginnings, it had grown with each generation until it now spanned the Earth Sphere, and was one of the largest companies in existence. The bulk of Winner Enterprises wealth was earned from supplying the day to day living needs of the colonies.

A large proportion of its income was generated from the mining of resource satellites, once asteroids moved from the distant belt in long chains pulled by the freighter trains servicing the mining colonies. In the last one hundred years a new business concern had provided the Winner family with an influx of wealth and prestige few companies could contest against. The Winner laboratories had succeeded in creating viable artificial wombs, and in the last fifty years had perfected methods of genetic manipulation.

The ESUN government now contracted Winner Laboratories for designing specific human beings to meet growing needs in the community. With the artificial wombs, and the ability to make viable embryos from same sex genetic samples, it was now possible for homosexual couples to have children without surrogacy. With the government sanctioning, and actively calling for the breeding of high level psychics, the genetic manipulation laboratories were in high demand, and Winner Enterprises was riding a wave of unparalleled success.

"You should not forget toilet paper and toothpaste in that." Quatre chuckled.

The shuttle craft bucked and both winced as some of their fellow passengers clutched at their seats with frightened looks, and the younger students' startled cries bordering on panic. Duo snorted in disgust and rolled his eyes, wishing yet again they had the shuttle to themselves.

The senior students on board were all from Tsuberov, all travel veterans and unmoved by the turbulence caused by the shuttle moving through the upper atmosphere of Earth. The younger passengers filling the shuttle were last minute additions to the flight, from an L4 school excursion whose hired shuttle had encountered technical difficulties. Permission was garnered from the Tsuberov governing body for the students from the L4 establishment to share the flight to Earth with Tsuberov's students. Had the Board of Governors not agreed, the high school students would have needed to cancel the excursion, both an expensive loss of money for the families and disappointment for the students.

After four hours trapped in a confined space with the vocal younger teens, Duo found himself wishing permission had been denied. At the least alternative arrangements might have been made for another shuttle to accommodate the excursion at the cost of a few hours delay.

He could feel their eyes on him. There were always eyes of course, but the intensity varied, and after a while the novelty of staring would ware off. Some days he wondered how Quatre could stand all the attention, and it was because of Quatre they were stared at. It was no big deal to him if he shared a shuttle with the heir to one of the largest corporations in the Earth Sphere, but whenever Quatre was recognized the inevitable happened. They became the focal point and he personally was tired of the attention, but Quatre seemed forever to be cheerful about it, and remained approachable and impeccably polite.

Quatre checked the time and leaned past Duo, ignoring the weight of the unwanted, but accepted, eyes following his every move, and lightly nudged their traveling companion. He and his friends had completed their scheduled orientation flight around the colonies, finishing up on L4 where he was permitted to spend a few days with his family. After the brief break from their tight schedule they had joined up with the six other students from Tsuberov for the return flight to Earth, but as far as he was concerned he was traveling only with Duo Maxwell and Zechs Merquise.

From the moment he had met Duo, Quatre had been enchanted with the mix of brilliance and personality that made the Sweeper so dynamic an individual. Duo was one who could talk endlessly about nothing, but the other boy whom he considered his friend was quieter, more subdued. Duo and Zechs were so radically different the contrast was striking, and intrigued Quatre to no end. He never tired of watching the two, noting the similarities and the differences, and how well they meshed despite their individual quirks.

Zechs Merquise had rolled his eyes when the agreement to include the high school students on the flight had been received from Tsuberov. After boarding the shuttle and listening to their fellow passengers for all of five minutes he had growled softly and sunk low in his seat, no small accomplishment considering the length of his legs, and dropped off to sleep. The speed with which he had fallen asleep left Quatre in no doubt his companion had entered a trance state to escape all the noise. He only wished his education in the psi practices had reached that point, but he was a little more than three years behind Zechs. His shields were at least adequate to protect him from the emotions of volatile teenagers.

It had been wonderful to visit with some of his family, though he kept the personal visit as short as possible without insulting any of his sister's resident on L4, or his father. Only his social position had permitted them the four days on L4 free of their tight schedule. His twenty-nine sisters were scattered throughout the Earth Sphere, but there had been five on L4 at the time of his visit, and it had been a pleasant few days spent at the Winner family complex.

He had taken Duo and Zechs with him, and was pleased his father had greeted them warmly, although to an Arab, be they from Earth or L4, hospitality was beyond merely expected, it was vitally important. As he had known it would be, it was not his father who had politely snubbed his companions as being beneath their social standing, but rather those who worked for the Winner. It amazed him how snobbish the employees could be, and how they had objected to the company he kept, even after his father had so openly welcomed the two young men. He had learned through experience it was all too often the employees who were bigger snobs than the rich and famous.

"Zechs. Wake up." He lightly brushed a tendril of thought over the shield he detected protecting the sleeping mind, knowing his psi touch would be registered by the somnolent mind more than his physical touch. "We are into re-entry."

Duo watched, counting the three slow, evenly paced breaths marking the awakening of the tall man seated to his left. Everything Zechs did over the last year and a half was paced and careful. His psi education was exacting to contain his sensitivity to tolerable levels, and Duo had no doubt he would be designated as one of the coveted Prime talents. The platinum blonde cranked open one eye, and stared at the ceiling of the shuttle for all of ten seconds, before wincing at the crick in his neck.

"How long before we land?" His voice was a warm husky rumble, barely above a whisper.

"Ten minutes." Duo returned. "You slept like a log."

Long arms unfolded into a reaching stretch, his hands coming to rest against the seats air conditioning controls above him, and he held the stretch for long seconds before relaxing slowly. He rotated first one shoulder and then the other, working some movement into stiffened muscles, and eased upward in his seat. A soft hiss marked the finding of a tweak in his back, and he leaned forward to rub gently at the knot in his muscles.

He was a tall man, standing a little over six foot two inches, and was slender without being thin. Duo knew from sharing the suite that Zechs was hard muscled, without an ounce of fat and very well put together. He was a striking example of a maturing young male, and Duo only hoped when he equaled his friend's years he was as kind on the eye.

"I put myself out. Too much 'noise' for me to cope with long term."

Quatre glanced at the thirty last minute additions to the flight and sighed. His own mental shields were sealed tight against the onslaught from the minds, and emotions, of the group and he was a high talent empath with lower function telepathic talent. For Zechs, who was approaching Prime level in both Teleptahic and Empathic talent, the psychic atmosphere in the shuttle could be considered dangerous.

The Tsuberov students were well trained before they were exposed to the public, and the mass onslaught of mental noise one expected from a crowd. Some of the high school students so unexpectedly included on the flight were emergent psi's, who had as yet not been tested or tagged for training, and had no idea how to contain their own mental noise. Regardless of whether or not they were psi emergent, the teenage mind was often a wild and always active place. In larger numbers, unrestrained teenage emotions were a menace to any high talent psi who did not shield his own mind.

Quatre found himself wishing, yet again, another shuttle might have been found for them, perhaps then he would not be entertaining this low throbbing headache despite his shields. A less crowded shuttle would have made the long flight from L4 more pleasant.

Their guests had been loud, both vocally and mentally, and he was not surprised Zechs had chosen to place himself in a deep shielded sleep to escape the unwanted overflow. Were he not the Winner heir, and the importance for him to make a good impression on everyone in his immediate vicinity been ingrained into him from childhood, then he too would have escaped in induced sleep.

It was more than an inconvenience for him to always need to maintain a pleasant persona around even the most obnoxious of individuals. His training had held, even on this torturous flight, and he had been, as usual, the perfect gentleman. Even if there was no press present to take the news to the Earth Sphere that Quatre Winner had not scratched his butt in public, or picked his nose.

"I only hope I sleep tonight." Zechs eased himself fully upright, and hissed in soft protest to the dull ache in his back and shoulders. "God, you would think they would put decent seats in these things."

"The designers need to consider the longer trips and disadvantages in sleeping on board. Mind you, most people are not quite so leggy either." Quatre grinned and settled back in his seat, working his slender shoulders deeper into the padding of the seat. "I'm back in class tomorrow morning at nine thirty. Does anyone need to be up by eight thirty to make a class?"

"Yeah." Duo leaned forward and hunted blindly around below the forward seat, eventually producing his small overnight bag they had been permitted to carry on board. He rummaged around within it for a few seconds and produced his time table. "I've got a class at nine forty five so I'll need to be up about then. Zechs?"

The blonde glared at his own small bag, nested between his feet, for a moment and shrugged. "I can get you up before I leave if you like? If you don't mind being rousted out a bit before eight? I have a class at eight fifteen."

Duo looked up from studying his time table and exchanged a quick glance with Quatre. "You don't sound too thrilled about it."

Quatre was scowling and turned in his seat to watch the paler blonde. "What class do you have at that hour of the morning? I thought you finished your early morning classes before we went on progress."

"Why should I be amused about it?" Zechs shrugged, refusing to meet either gaze. "I am what I am, not some…" He bit back whatever he had been about to say and sighed. "Etiquette lessons."

Quatre's scowl deepened considerably and he considered his friend for a long moment. Zechs had been at a disadvantage at Tsuberov, an orphan who had known the streets until he had been tagged as a high talent Psi. Having a measurable psi talent had been enough to earn him a reprieve from the streets. The sensitivity of his talent, and the rarity of the combination, had been sufficient to earn him a place in the most prestigious educational facility for psi study.

Big business and political parties actively sought such talented individuals for their staff, and always had their ear tuned for exciting discoveries. Zechs had come to the attention of someone who had taken an interest in his life, and suddenly the orphan from a backwater town, who had known only the basic government education, found himself in the middle of 'snob central'. Tsuberov was a far cry from running on the streets, and from the loose eye of the orphanage attendants, and the transition had not been easy.

The first two years had not been happy for the younger Zechs as he struggled, trying to cope with so radical a change in his circumstances. His government education had not prepared him for the lifestyle, nor the expectation of the instructors, and Tsuberov had not been prepared for the blonde. Early altercations with students and teachers alike might have earned him expulsion, had not his unknown benefactor somehow smoothed the Dean's ruffled feathers.

Etiquette had become a required study for the sullen young man.

In his third year at Tsuberov he had made the acquaintance of one Duo Maxwell, Sweeper brat extraordinaire and certified genius in his own words. Making Duo's acquaintance had been a lifesaver, as from the moment they had laid sight on each other, they had each understood the other. Zechs had undertaken, in his own words, two years of hell before the enforced etiquette instruction had done something for him he acknowledged as an improvement. The lessons had provided his first meeting with Duo.

The Sweeper had been required to take the private etiquette training on arriving at the University and calmly informing his dorm supervisor to 'bugger off' since he was busy. After only a week of the early morning scheduled class he had made a vid call to his sponsor, who had listened calmly to his complaints and promptly had his lessons toned down. The Sweepers considered it important Duo be aware of basic manners and etiquette required to conduct business negotiations with all social classes and ethnic relations. They had not considered it necessary for him to be turned into what Duo termed a 'stuck up prig'.

Zechs had not been so fortunate. His howls of protest over two hour long sessions on a daily basis with the most hated teacher in the University to his benefactor, via relayed voice mail, had gone unanswered for the first year. On the first day of the second year at Tsuberov he had tried bolting from the grounds, on learning the sessions would be continued, only to be caught by the security Chief himself. He had received a typed unsigned note from his benefactor stating he would suffer the lessons in good grace and become a young gentleman, not remain a young savage. The security staff had kept close watch on him the remainder of the year.

The third year had dawned with the introduction of yet another etiquette session, though this time the lessons were reduced to one hour twice a week. A note from his benefactor warning him no repeat of the second year's escapades would be tolerated had been awaiting him, along with the security chief who escorted him to his first lesson. Personally he had though that a bit on the overkill side. He had learned there was no escaping Tsuberov, but that did not mean he had to like the lessons.

Enter Duo Maxwell, who had been as eager as he to attend class after the first day, and who had somehow, unforgivably, managed to worm his way out of the bulk of the lessons. His dorm supervisor had noted how well the two dealt with each other, and despite Zechs being two years ahead of Duo in Psi study they had become roommates following a burst water pipe flooding Duo's assigned single room.

Academically Zechs was no more advanced than Duo in his basic studies, and the two years difference in ages had seemed not to bother either of the young men. They had dealt well with each other, while the single room had been repaired of damages done by water seepage. Events had settled somewhat during Duo's first year, and the notoriously volatile Zechs had been remarkably stable in the company of the ever cheerful Sweeper. Following Duo's return to the university, after the holiday break with the Sweepers, they had resumed their sharing of a dorm.

When Quatre had arrived at Tsuberov amidst all the usual Winner fanfare barely a month later, the two youths had rolled their eyes and whispered about the arrival of the biggest snob in the Earth Sphere. The fanfare was enormous, as it was considered a great feather in Tsuberov's bonnet to have gained the patronage of the Winner, and to be entrusted with the education, training and safety of his one male heir.

To find the Winner included in their continuing, and much hated, etiquette lessons had been more than a surprise to both young men. Within a few meetings the boys had become fast friends, much to the horror of the University teaching staff. Subtle hints to the Winner heir he would be better served turning his attention to the son of the Duke of Kent, or the Princess of Sanc, who had joined Tsuberov that year, were pointedly ignored. Annoyed by the staff's objections to his new friends, Quatre had called his father and, to the horror of the Dean, insisted on being moved into the same shared dorm as his friends. The Winner had expressed his belief his son was capable of determining the character of those he wanted to associate with, and made no objection to the move.

While Duo and Quatre cruised through the exacting curriculum with ease, Zechs found progress much harder. Academically he was considered inferior to the standards Tsuberov demanded of its students. While he struggled with the subject matter of the university, his Psi potential could not be so easily dismissed. He was a talented and sensitive psychic, and had none of the difficulties when dealing with psi that marked his more conventional education. Through sheer stubbornness he had managed passable grades, with the assistance of his younger dorm mates, who took it upon themselves to tutor him where he most desperately needed the help.

Quatre was only too aware of the older man's embarrassment to be so lacking, compared to everyone around him, and it annoyed him. There was really no need for Zechs to consider him self inadequate. The Winner was of the opinion the only thing wrong with Zechs was he was aware none of his instructors believed he had a brain equal to the more socially acceptable students. He had not had a private tutor filled education, as had the bulk of the student body at Tsuberov, and everyone was aware of his origins.

The government curriculum of the school he had attended had not included business-oriented subject matter on the scale of the university, and in such areas Zechs was lacking. He picked up theory quickly enough when he was tutored in their dorm, so quickly in fact that both Duo and Quatre had been surprised. It was more than annoying to them the moment Zechs entered a classroom with a teacher and fellow students, he struggled to keep pace.

"Etiquette? I thought you finished with those classes two months ago." Duo sighed, understanding why his friend had been less than happy to receive his new time table from their appointed supervisor on boarding the shuttle.

Duo had been granted escape from the etiquette classes soon after the commencement of the first semester, and Quatre had escaped them a short time later, when his father sent word he was more concerned with his son's business economics assessment. He felt his son would be better served focusing on the business side of matters for a time, than on the niceties of dealing with multiracial customs. If Quatre picked up his grades he would find himself back in etiquette and protocol classes in the New Year.

"Apparently my benefactor is not satisfied with my last assessment. I'm not, as yet, socially acceptable enough to be seen in public, so I'm back in classes and this time I have to learn advanced dance skills."

At the distaste positively dripping from the word 'dance' Quatre exchanged amused looks with Duo. "You won't have a problem with dancing, Zechs. You are naturally quick and light on your feet, and you have no trouble telling your left foot from your right."

Pale blue eyes narrowed with displeasure. "I'm not laughing, Quatre. I suffered through dance sessions last year, why should I need to learn 'advanced' dancing skills."

"You'll walk it with your coordination." Duo grinned. "Lighten up, man, it's just dancing. Hey, who did they draft in for your partner?"

Zechs sniffed and glared at the back of the seat in front of him. "I don't know, and I don't care."

"Who is your teacher?" Quatre queried.

"Guess." The drawl in his voice was demonstrative enough of his dislike for his appointed teacher.

Miss Letitia Johnston had had the dubious pleasure of teaching Zechs social skills since his first year at the university, and the instant friction between the two had not helped matters. Zech's sullen attitude had infuriated her in a quietly genteel sort of way, and she had been merciless in her attempts to turn the 'ragamuffin', later designated 'savage', and finally 'barbarian', into a young gentleman. Progress had undeniably been made, and Quatre was of the opinion the woman deserved a medal for dealing so long with Zechs and not committing murder.

"Why do I have to learn how to crick my pinky finger just so? Why do I need to learn to tie a cravat when the bloody things have been out of fashion now for fifteen years? Why do I have to learn how to use twenty different eating utensils for one meal, when one set would do just fine? Why do I have to stand straight and perfectly still for two freaking hours without moving, and why do I have to learn to dance?"

"Because you are a Tsuberov student, and you have to hold your head up in public and maintain Tsuberov's high standards." Duo grinned and waved a hand to negate the fierce scowl turned his way. "Come on Zechs, it's not for much longer. Only another six months, maybe less, if your next rounds of assessments go well and then you'll be done here. You can go back to the real world, and find a niche there. So, had any decent offers?"

Zechs sighed and his scowl deepened. It was obvious he was not happy, and learning to dance had nothing to do with his depression. "Yeah, I've had a couple of offers."

Quatre watched him and waited, expecting there to be an elaboration forthcoming. Every high performing psi could command lucrative contracts on completion of their training, and with a Prime Empathic Telepath maturing the offers would be more than merely lucrative, no matter his family background. His expectation turned into a small scowl when no elaboration was made, and he reached to lightly touch the man's hand, the feather light fleeting touch of one telepath to another.

"If you are not happy with the financial terms of the contract, or the conditions outlined within, then say so. You are not yet twenty-one, and there is plenty of time for you to decide where your interest lies. What were the offers? Business? I know there are plenty of corporations who would consider it more than worth their while to secure a Prime in your field. Winner Enterprises employs two Primes in your field of expertise, as aides to the Board of Directors and to my father specifically. Politicians with a high profile are always in need of a strong telepath too. There is no need to concern yourself with what awaits you after you finish at Tsuberov. With your Levels you will be sought after."

"What was wrong with the offers?" Duo queried, rubbing at a cramped leg muscle, and silently wishing the flight would end so he could stretch his legs. He wanted to walk around for an hour or two, before he set his abused backside down on a solid surface again. In his opinion the human body was made to sit only for so long.

"I don't know."

"You don't know?" Quatre glanced up as the shuttle shifted, dropping suddenly for a few seconds before leveling off. He was forced to wait for the screams of the startled younger students to settle before he could speak without the need to shout. "Idiots." He muttered, then turned back to his friend. "What do you mean, you don't know? You've studied the dos and don'ts of contracts, and what constitutes a good contract from a bad contract."

The blonde head tipped back until he was staring at the overhead air conditioning controls and shrugged. "I don't know because I never saw the offers."

Duo blinked, straightening in his seat. "Come again? I don't get it."

"I do know offers for my services were made, before we left for the tour of the colonies, because the Dean informed me they had been received. He never, however, chose to inform me of exactly what those offers were, nor did he offer to show me the drafts, or discuss details on my return."

"But you have to be consulted." Quatre looked his shock, and his frown was deepening. "If you are going to accept a contract you have to know the expected conditions and work outline, so you can determine if you can handle the work. There should be a probationary period included in the agreement, to be certain you can tolerate working with the people you would be required to socialize with. Corporations are only too aware if they want a high level Psi working for them then they have to guarantee to meet your needs."

Zechs rubbed at his eyes for a moment and met his friend's intent gaze. "I know the theory of contracting high level Psychics, Quatre. Lord knows it was drummed into my head in class often enough, but the fact remains I was not shown the offers. Apparently my benefactor decided the offers were unsuitable, and issued instruction with the Dean I was to remain uncontracted until further notice."

Duo whistled softly. "Sucks, man. Whoever it is must have high standards."

"We can't tell without seeing copies of those contracts just how unsuitable the conditions of employment might have been." Quatre argued. "For anyone to attempt to issue contract to a Tsuberov student without making a really decent offer is unheard of. It is also considered poor form to withhold contract details from the potential employee."

"I know all of that, but you know there are no other Tsuberov students in my situation. Let's face facts, okay? I'm only here as a Tsuberov student because someone I don't know decided they might have a use for me. I don't know who pays my bills and dictates I have to take dancing lessons, or why. I don't have a dad who owns the Earth Sphere who can quibble over the fine print, and dictate what is, or not, a fair contract. What I have to deal with is an unknown busybody with a massive wallet, who thinks they own me and acts accordingly. I feel like a piece of meat up for the highest bidder, and the hand that signs on the contract's dotted line might not be the highest bidder, or the best of the bunch. Be honest with me, will you? What is to stop my benefactor from coming forward and saying he, she or it paid 'yay' amount of money for my education, so I'm to be indentured into their service until I pay said money back? Is that not what the Psychic Institute does with its trainees?"

Quatre grunted softly and noted the warning light flicker overhead, reminding everyone to remain in their seats and refrain from removing their seat belts. He was afraid his friend had a valid argument, and it worried him. He had never had to worry about his own future, as it was all planned out for him before he was even born, and he had been taught to accept it. What would it be like not knowing your place in the order of things? Quatre did not like where his thoughts were going, and his only redeeming thought at this time was that they had time. Zechs had months remaining at Tsuberov before he would be ready to contract his services, and the Winner heir had found a crusade.

"We are on final approach so we can't exactly spend a lot of time on this now. Zechs, I want you to promise me you will not agree to sign anything, without first letting me look over the contract, okay? I'll make it my business to be sure you get a fair deal, and you will not be held under a reserve sub-clause for your benefactor to dictate future conditions should the need arise. I've learned a great deal about the format of contracts Tsuberov has not as yet included in our classes. Let me be your private agent, and I guarantee you will receive a fair price for your services, fair conditions to work under, and a fair term of service. You should be free, and indeed are free, by law, to refuse a contract if you feel it will not suit you. If an agreement cannot be reached you are within your rights to ask for mediation. As for the other… If your benefactor should come forward with a contract of his own, containing a set period of employment to pay off expenses incurred in your education… We'll think of something to counteract it. I'll talk to my dad if I need to, to see what can be done to see conditions are not to your detriment."

Duo scowled at the chair back in front of him and settled deeper into his seat. He was thankful he had a guaranteed place waiting for him when he finished his term at the University. For him there was no mystery surrounding who was paying his way while he studied, and he knew why they were doing it. He had open feedback arranged with his Sweeper Guardians, so that if he had any gripes, queries or concerns he could express them to the Captain. He had been assured before his first year at Tsuberov he could expect his concerns to be fairly and speedily dealt with. The issues concerning the etiquette lessons had assured him of just how fairly and speedily he could expect action to be taken.

It sucked his friend appeared to be at the mercy of his benefactor, and he suspected said benefactor was planning to take advantage of Zechs not being at his majority when the semester finished. With Zechs still legally a minor until the day he turned twenty-one, he could be railroaded into a contract if circumstances could be managed just so. It was a sad fact of life some people in the big wide ESUN made a living out of exploiting the talents of others. While he could not say something in particular scratched his 'something is rotten' bump, this situation reeked of potential to abuse his friend.

// I wonder if there might not be an opening amid the Sweepers he would be suitable for? One of the Captains may be interested in a Empathic Telepath, although I expect there would be considerable difficulty in the Sweepers meeting the contract price for a Prime. Still, Zechs does not want money. He's not the sort to think money is the be all and end all of the Universe. His benefactor would probably veto the idea anyway, and can do so legally until he has his majority. Well, maybe he would not be suited to a Sweeper's life, and there is the matter of finding the credits to secure his services, and then keep him. He'd need shielded quarters and that does not come cheap. It is expensive keeping telepaths and empaths, and the cost needs to be justified. Profit is important.//

Quatre sighed as he mulled over various ideas on how best to deal with the situation. He had always been surrounded by family, and it was heartbreaking to him his two best friends had no such back up. While it was true the Winner family was very far from what most termed normal, no one could deny they looked out for each other.

He had twenty-nine sisters, some of whom he had only met once or twice in his life, but for all their distance they kept in touch. They all exchanged emails regularly, and expressed interest in each other's business and personal and romantic affairs, a fact which caused him to exercise caution in his communications.

Romantic affairs were a rather delicate subject with him as he was not as yet prepared for his father to learn of his romantic attachment. Mr. Winner Senior was not likely to be amused on learning his one and only son was homosexual, though in this day and age being gay was no impediment to having children to continue the Winner dynasty.

//Allah knows my father had thirty children. So long as there are suitable surrogate mothers out there, and now the artificial wombs make it even easier, what has he to complain about? A generic laboratory can now produce a natural child between a same sex couple. Still, for all it does not mean the end of the dynasty, I am not eager to tell him I have no interest in women.//

The shuttle came down to Earth with a thud and the engines roared, the cabin shuddering under deceleration. Zechs Merquise sighed softly and looked out of the window, hoping to see more than tarmac. Quatre considered the possible repercussions of informing his father he was gay, and Duo wondered if the Sweepers were making a reasonable profit and would have the financial backing to bring his project to life, after his education was completed. Tsuberov was home, at least for the moment, and they had been away long enough to want to be back amid familiar surroundings.

"Settle down!" A teacher was on her feet, moving amid the highly excited high school students and trying to contain their volume to a reasonable level during the final stage of the flight. "Remain seated until the shuttle stops. When the doors are opened you will each take your on board luggage and move in orderly lines into the terminal. There will be no screaming, pointing or improper behavior."

t.b.c.

Karina Robertson 2006

-----------------------------------

Authors Notes:

Duo Maxwell: Psi Student , 3rd year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Level 8 Psychokinetic ability, projected level 9. Sending Telepath Level 5. Colony of Origin L2 Cluster [18 years of age Sweeper adoptee. Under pre-contract agreement with Sweepers.

Quatre Raberba Winner: Psi student, 2nd year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Current Level 5 Telepath, projected Level 7, Current Level Receiving Empath 9.3, projected Level 10, Prime. Current Sending Empath Level 2, projected Level 4. Colony of Origin, L4 Cluster [18 years of age

Zechs Merquise: Psi Student 5th year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Level 10 Receiving/Projecting Empath [approaching Prime Designation + Level 9 Sending /Receiving Telepath, Projected L10 function. Finder function suspected, not officially registered. Country of origin, Luxemburg. [20 years of age


	7. Chapter 7

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 7/??

Author: Karina

Pairings 13x6 [eventual, 5xS [established, 3x4, Others undecided at this time.

Archive: Gundam Wing Universe Extreme Alternate Universe setting. Unbetaed, Aussie spelling, not much else in the early chapters though it will involve murder, stalking and possibly some colourful language down the track. Some Out Of Character depictions are unavoidable considering the alternate universe setting.

Rating: M [In Australia that would be mature adult 15+ Not sure with the new rating system. Rated for murder and violence as well as adult concepts.

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. That's about as plain as you could say it.

Summary: The world took a very different turn with the acknowledgement and training of select psychic individuals enlisted in elite fields such as law enforcement and politics. A grading system for the strength of psionic abilities was developed and those who were the top of the elite have been dubbed Prime Talents and are highly sought after. Elite institutions have been developed to mark, train and employ individuals with useable psionic talents. The colonies of canon Gundam Wing do exist in this fic and were founded before the psionic system was founded.

//…// Thoughts

+/.../+ Telepathy

Chapter Seven

// I could cheerfully curse the inventor of the video surveillance camera with a pox of boils upon his bum. If the inventor had known of the hours we have to sit here watching the feed fast forward, I'm sure he would have been reasonable and changed his mind about the whole thing. Hour after hour, camera by camera, there is nothing but empty hallways or crowded streets. //

Treize glared at the flickering screen and the empty, dimly lit hallway. They were up to viewing the early morning hours of the night their victim met his fate, and he wished himself anywhere but locked in this small room with three sweaty men. Reviewing video footage was so entertaining he had to admit even a crowded ballroom had it advantages over his current environment. That did not say much, as he loathed the aristocratic functions and deals done under cover of false smiles. Politics and big business were not up with his favoured pastimes.

//As boring as this is I know I would not have stayed sane if I had followed the family plan and become a politician. Time honoured tradition as it is, and I know the world needs them, but I am really not suited to the profession. No one ever understands a good politician's intention…// He covered the smirk behind his fingers, resting his head in his cupped palms, eyes never leaving the screen. //What guff. Utter twaddle. I no more believe my uncle's speech now than I did when he first made it to me. No, I was not cut out to deal with that deception and game playing day after day. I would have ended up starting wars rather than keep them from happening. For a telepath it would have been all too easy to know exactly what to say, and to whom, to get the ball rolling. Frightening really.//

It was amazing the strides made toward unification and peace which had taken place over the last thirty years. Three decades equated to slightly more than a single generation. He knew the history only too well, considering his relations, including his parents, had been involved in the landmark decisions that had shaped the current world order. Thirty years of peace had changed the world, and he admitted he was proud of his extended family's role in those changes.

//How could anyone expect the new generation to find themselves in the same manner as those who came before? It is a new world order, and the old guard will have to become accustomed to their children breaking out of the mould that shaped them. War is almost a thing of the past, and there is not the need for child after child to dedicate their lives to politics to find a way to gain that stability. They should have seen it coming. I may have been one of the first, but I certainly was not the last, to look for a future outside of political circles.//

The addition of telepaths on the personal staff of the world leaders and leading politicians had paved the way for peace. Initially it was fashionable to be known to have a psi active aide; it was even seen as a political statement toward recognition of a minority group. To balance what some considered unfair advantage, other telepaths and empaths had been employed by opposing parties, in the event the psychic's talent might be used.

//Ironic. Keeping up with the Jones', and playing with new toys drove the advance of the peace we know today. //

It was amazing how the political practices of the past had changed with the advent of Psychics onto the world stage. Fear the aides of politicians in vital talks might be telepaths, and capable of reading the deceptions and truths of the opposing side, kept such deceptions down to a minimum. Talks that had circled and gone nowhere for months, even years, suddenly found direction. Concerns holding up the peace process had been revealed to be trivial, and in some rare cases, attacks were thwarted before they could be carried out. Psychics found they had become mankind's best hope for peace.

// To think it was Telepaths and high level Empaths who made the breakthrough that had eluded generations. Mind readers. Charlatans and frauds they were called for hundreds of years. // Behind his curled fingers he smiled, eyes still on the flickering monitor, but the amusement was not reflected in his eyes. // It is amazing how little a body can lie when the secretary or personal assistant, or even the politician himself, can detect those lies. //

More and more over the last decade, with the advances in technology being made, politicians were employing the use of mechanical shields designed to set up an interference through which most telepaths could not read. Some politicians had no need of mechanical aids, as they had naturally strong mental shields. In either case a telepath or empathy could usually pick up at least some hint of the intentions of the participants from their aides. It was generally considered to be impossible to have a full staff proof against Psychic investigation, and recently empaths, more than telepaths, had been employed to sit in on high level discussions.

Empaths were used to read the subjects body reflection of the minds tendency toward truth or lie. Often that was all that was required to keep a negotiation progressing smoothly. Telepaths in the World Governments employ were generally not required to pry into the lives of party members or their staff. In all but the rarest of cases the task for the telepath, especially if he was a dual talent telepathic empath, was to monitor ongoing negotiations and sense the psychic atmosphere of a room. Catching stray thoughts and overcharged emotions could lead to avoiding unnecessary complications, especially in areas of ethnic contention.

//Human barometers. //

He had escaped becoming a politician, or being employed by a politician as a resident telepathic aide, the two fates his relatives would have considered acceptable for a Kushrenada son. No doubt they would be unamused to learn he had, on more than one occasion, had a hand in the removal of corrupt politicians and persons bent on bringing disruption to important proceedings. It was to the rarer talents such as himself, in the employ of private agencies of the like of The Agency, the ESUN government turned to, when they needed delicate matters attended.

He might not be employed by a politician, but he did his share of dabbling in political waters, and always on covert operations. He hated the necessity of such work, but he loathed with a passion being used as a barometer. He had been required to sit in on conventions, sporting events and public meetings to monitor the fluctuating emotional levels, and to determine the flavour of those emotions. With his timely warning trouble had been avoided on a number of occasions, the most prominent being the World Cup the previous year, when soccer fans had come close to clashing in a riot. He had pinpointed the main agitators and enabled their discreet removal to take place.

A useful side effect of using psychics to monitor conventions had been the eradication of generic food menu's offered to convention goers. Many of the aggravations at conventions had been avoided by the simple expedient of altering the diet of those who attended, and his stomach had thanked him for the change. It was amazing how a person's contentment with a decent meal, and maybe a glass of wine or two, was proven to be more approachable and less prone to agitation.

Clairvoyants, telepaths and empaths had been included in the law enforcements rosters after trial periods. These periods had proven the worth of the psychics, and there had been a marked reduction in the crime rates throughout the ESUN. Be it vandalism for vandalisms sake, theft, murder, robberies or riots, there was no longer any doubt of the benefits of Psi potential.

Beside him Otto stirred, and his chair creaked beneath his weight. The man looked to be on the edge of stating, yet again, that the tapes would reveal nothing. They had already been reviewed, after all, and he was probably right, but they had not been reviewed by either the Agency or by the ESUN security division. No doubt Otto would be insulted that his staff were discounted in this murder hunt, but he was not concerned with the man's delicate sensibilities.

//He's not a Psi, but he is using a shield unit. Interesting.//

Yuy was a statue beside Chang, intent on the monitor in front of him. Treize wondered what his enhanced senses made of the tapes, and if perhaps he saw more than any of the unaltered men in the room. His very existence would not have been possible without the introduction of Psi into the day to day living of the Earth Sphere.

With politicians made aware of the inclinations and machinations of their opposite numbers, more work and less dancing around a subject had become the norm. Politicians knew who of their numbers would be inclined to back certain bills, and where the greatest opposition to proposals would lie. The end result had been the near total abolition of war. There were still instances of conflict, but generally there were less trouble spot's in the world. Most outbreaks of dissention were dealt with quickly and efficiently, to the benefit of all parties and little loss of population or resources. The side result of the reduction in hostilities, and increase in peace, had been the opening up of long delayed programs.

Less war's resulted in less expenditure on defence systems and armies. The defence budgets of the world nations had been turned to the concerns of feeding and housing the world's burgeoning population. The exploration of space to establish suitable residences for the increasing population had taken up many of the world's best minds and engineers. Funds had been channelled into improving the conditions on the older Colonies, and had seen the birth of the new colony cluster now under construction in orbit over Mars.

With the new Mars colonies opening, an event expected to take place in a little over a year, the opportunity for an expansion onto the planet would be considered. Designs for great domed cities and sealed pastures to feed the local populations, were already being brought forward for discussion at Council of Representative meetings. Private investment had been investigating the benefits of opening up Mars as well, and saw the advantages of meeting the needs of expanding humanity. With no wars to control the population, many countries were finding it difficult to cater to the needs of their people.

With the ever increasing population, and the emergence and acceptance of psychic talents, the government looked for the means of improving the human condition. Stronger, faster humans, who might require less fuel to run their bodies, and were more suited to long haul space flights were considered required to further expand human interests into outer space. At this time the designer genetic program was still experimental, and none of the few modified humans would see the inside of a space ship. Other work had been found for them, and Yuy had been assigned to the ESUN Security Agency.

//And what does this extremely expensive prodigy end up doing? Watching boring security feed, of course.// Treize resisted the urge to stretch, though if he did not indulge in a good stretch soon he was sure his body would constrict into a series of knots. // It is patently obvious someone has managed to access the camera feeds. I would guess it would be a loop channelled into the feed. We are watching reruns of empty hallways for no reason. The tapes will need to be dispatched to a digital laboratory to find the splice, so we can at least determine what time the feed was interrupted.//

Wu Fei, he noted, was scowling at the screens, his dark eyes flicking repeatedly from one to the other, not content to watch his own boring view of the hallway. No doubt his partner too had decided this was a waste of time, and they would need to take the tapes to a laboratory for detailed analysis. If the Security Chief for the University was inclined to quibble about it they could bring the full force of both The Agency and the ESUN Security Agency down on him.

Personally he thought the man had reacted reasonably to their invasion of his territory. He appeared to be sensible, and understood the level of threat to the students involved in this investigation, and Treize doubted they would have any trouble with him. Those photographs in his office suggested Otto was accustomed to working at the highest level of security, and cooperating with the worlds best security consultants. It was already clear to him certain precautions would be required to be initiated, and if the man objected they could always have their Commander intercede on their behalf.

//Approaching Une for anything would not be my preferred option at this point in time. The less I have to do with her until I can establish full control of my shields the better.//

He had a headache. Again.

Yuy stirred and leaned forward, eyeing the screen directly in front of him with an intensity that bordered on obsessive. The man's genetic modifications had been enhanced by extensive training and conditioning, and while entirely human Heero Yuy was, in many ways, both more and less than human. To know you existed because the Powers That Be required you to have this exact set of genetic characteristics was not something Treize would have liked to know. He would not have liked his every genetic marker planned before conception. It was his personal view that such manipulation smacked of pre ordered slavery.

Owing to his ties to the political elite, Treize knew there were plans to have another, larger group of children enhanced and reared to work within the ESUN Security Agency. Enhanced agents gave the Security Agency an edge in dealing with potentially delicate and explosive situations. It had become acceptable practice to team a couple of genetically enhanced agents with a select combination of Psychics, to produce a formidable team.

In recent time the Security Agency had made increasing use of the Psi assistance available from the Agency. Over the past decade it seemed to have become their standard practice to maintain the growing order of peace in the Earth Sphere. Advances in technology, made with the end of constant conflict were not to be denied, and eventually the aim was to bring the world's population to consider itself one nation. At this time there were individual governments and, in his view, a stable check and balance system in place. Some councillors had proposed dissolving national borders, and bringing the Earth under one centralized government.

//One nation working for the good of all, Earth born or Colony born. It could be made to work, and eventually I can see the One Nation becoming a reality, but for it to work certain organizations need to be kept under control. The single most important step to the peace is to keep the leaders honest. Unfortunately it is becoming increasingly difficult, with the advances in technology aimed at countering Psi ability. Ah, naughty me. Technology is working toward complimenting psychic ability, not thwarting it. //

More empty tape, the same view of the hallway and the same view of the stairwell. He leaned back and sighed softly as the disk completed its recording, and Otto leaned forward to load the machine with the feed from another camera covering the hallway and another time frame. They were nearly done, and it had thus far been a colossal waste of time. He could have left this duty quite happily to Chang and Yuy while he took advantage of the psychic dampeners and worked on his shields.

//As more Psychics enter the field of politics and take active parts, keeping the politics and politicians honest, there are more and more moves to even the playing fields. It is being driven by those who can not afford the services of high talent psi's, who see themselves at a disadvantage, and they are right. They do have a disadvantage, and I can't see a way around it, and refuse to consider the notion of psychics working for nothing. We might as well become slaves if they can order us around without paying a price that reflects the importance of our work. God. That makes us sound like mercenaries out for all they can get. //

Treize settled back and resisted the urge to roll his eyes as the footage came on screen. If nothing else the boredom gave him opportunity to think, though the thinking was serving only to give him a headache and see how rotten apples were polluting the barrel.

//If you can't have a psychic working for you, the next best thing is to be able to counter their abilities, cancelling out their advantage. They fail to see and understand a decent empath can make as much sense of, or more, than a telepath can from reading their thoughts. Humans just are not designed to keep their thoughts contained and separated from the physical form. What you think is reflected in the body, and an empath can pick up on that. Politicians are being taught to shield their minds, and while some are good at it, too many are woeful at this time. It takes a great deal of training to train a mind to shield and not leak. //

Onscreen now was the same hallway seen from a different angle, covering the shadowed approach to the dorm suite. The same empty hallway full of shadows and decoration he had spent too long observing. If one of the others did not come out and say it shortly then he would. He could be doing other, more useful things.

//The invention of neural inhibitors is more of a worry, as it is far more effective at keeping a telepath at bay. We can break through them, but it generally results in damage to the subject, and an ethical Psi will avoid that at all costs. The problem is not all telepaths are as ethical as they should be. Neural nets can't stop the body reaction to thoughts though… at least they have not figured out how to deceive their own bodies as yet. No doubt there is some brilliant young thing working on just that. They are demanding more Psychics, even breeding for psi talent, and at the same time they are countering our effectiveness. If they do not devise a reasonable system of checks and balances they will find the system breaking down. It is inevitable it will happen. More skirmishes will take place between discontent parties, and eventually we will find the good done over the last generations being countered. I for one do not want to see the days of constant conflict for power return.//

Yuy abruptly leaned close to one screen and stabbed a finger at the display. "There. There is evidence of a splice in that footage. Someone interrupted the security feed. Rewind it."

The security chief obliged, leaning forward to run his fingers over the control keys. A quick play of blunt square fingers over sensitized keys, and the picture on the screen ran in reverse.

"Enough." Yuy raised a hand. "Now watch."

Treize, suddenly alert, focused on the footage of the empty hallway, looking for the tell tale signs of a splice and totally missed it. Yuy was looking at them all expectantly, but Treize could see neither Chang nor Otto appeared to have noted whatever alerted the ESUN Agent.

"I saw nothing." Chang glanced at Treize who shrugged, indicating he also had missed the decisive moment. "Are you certain?"

"Of course I am certain. Rewind it. Look again."

Otto reached for the controls once again. "I'll run it at half the normal frame speed. That should pick up any inconsistencies."

Treize focused on the screen, looking for anything that might indicate the crucial moment. The chief touched the play button, reduced the playback speed to half and stared intently at the screen. Treize caught the flicker of shadow at the exact moment Otto's finger stabbed at the pause key. Yuy nodded slightly to indicate they had the right frame, and Treize was once again amazed at the enhancements of the Agent.

Only Yuy's genetically enhanced vision had allowed him to catch the momentary interference at the fast forwarded rate. Even at normal playback speed there had been little chance of catching the exact frame, but at half speed that flicker of shadow could be detected. There was now no denying the security system had been compromised, and very expertly too. From the scowl on Otto's face he knew the implications only too well, and he was not a happy man.

//I can well imagine what is going through that head now. //

The Security Chief's neural shield made it impossible for Treize, in his present condition, to glean much from that mind. Considering his position it was natural Otto would have some protection, considering he worked in an environment full of Psi active students. For his personal protection from curious teenagers, and to protect the security protocols of the university, it stood to reason he would be well protected. They were guarding the future leaders of the human race at Tsuberov, and the rich and famous demanded their offspring be given the best.

By reflex more than intent Treize flicked a questing tendril of thought at the shielded mind, automatically testing for resistance and quality in the protection the shield unit provided. The result surprised him, and he covered his momentary reaction at his finding by running his hand through his hair, shielding his face from the other men in the room. Considering his position one would expect the security chief to be shielded, but the 'feel' of this shield was unlike anything Treize had encountered in use before.

He had detected the mild interference he expected to find, but there was something more underlying that interference which surprised him. He detected what he considered to be an anomaly only because he tried the probe against the shield at the exact moment Otto reacted to Yuy's comment. Impossibly Otto's mind had gone blank. Totally blank. In that instant the interference set up by the shield unit had been laid bare to his scrutiny, and he knew only too well the human mind was never ever quiet.

The human mind always had a rumble of activity about it that could be likened to a sub vocal murmur, heard at the very edge of hearing. This murmur was the representation of the subconscious thoughts of the mind, which worked on multiple levels and was never idle, not even in sleep. Under the discovery of the splice in the surveillance tapes that background noise had ceased, totally dropping off the telepaths awareness, and by its very absence gaining his attention. Even now, seconds after the discovery, Otto's thoughts remained silent as he continued to glare at the screen.

"It will be required for us to take the full catalogue of tapes to the laboratory for processing. We may be able to determine other points where interference may have been incurred to the security system. I believe it would be prudent to examine the records from the last three months." Yuy settled back in his seat with a quick glance at the security chief, showing no satisfaction at picking up on details the others missed.

"Three months? Why so far?" The man arched an eyebrow in surprise, tilting his head to face Yuy.

Treize blinked at the sudden reawakening of the man's thought processes. The muted rumble of subconscious thought was back. After a moments consideration he extended his awareness over that rumble, seeking something to confirm his suspicions the Security Chief was far more than he had first assumed.

"The students have been absent from the campus for a month, I believe. I suspect we may find evidence of observation involving your security feed before they departed for the colonies. I expect to find more than one instance of a very skilful splice into your system."

Heero's voice was on the edge of his awareness, but he ignored it in favour of his search. That rumble was more rhythmical than he expected a human mind to produce. It was regular, not the rather erratic flitting of thought from subject to subject, random memory to sudden inspiration he was accustomed to detecting, even under the effects of mechanical shields. No, this rumble was entirely mechanical in nature.

The Agency kept up to date on the latest advances in neural technology, and was aware of the varied research fields currently under investigation. Treize had read a number of reports on new shield configurations and the expectations of their designers, and he was almost certain of what he had discovered. At some time in the recent past, and it had to be recent, as the Agency was not yet notified of the successful release of the hardware, Heinrich Otto had undergone surgery. A neural unit had been implanted into the man's mind, which would proof him against casual telepathic scanning and probably up to a level four probe, if the design specifications had been adhered to. Just how good the shield was would be open to debate and time and testing.

The technology to create these experimental neural shield implants was, as he recalled, quite expensive, and their use was projected to be by the world's elite. The wealthiest and most influential persons alone would be able to afford the shields, until technology took another leap forward and their protection was deemed obsolete. Their greatest asset was the difficulty in detecting the presence of the shields.

As he recalled, the units set up a discharge of electrical impulses similar to the electrical impulses in the brain. In effect they faked the workings of the subconscious mind. The discharge was the result of complex neural relays implanted into the wearer's brain. A casually scanning telepath would detect what he presumed to be subconscious thought; when in fact it was low level electrical discharge.

According to the summary Treize had read the wearer could, with sufficient training, meld his thoughts into that background noise, simulating the natural human mind and allow a scanning telepath to learn what he wanted him to know. If the telepath was lazy, or of a low level, he might well be fooled into thinking he had scanned the inner thoughts of the subject.

The implant was powered by the electrical discharges common to the human brain. The more activity in the brain, the greater the level of electrical discharges would be produced, and the more noise a telepath would detect. Few things could give away the presence of the implant, and most low level telepaths would not have detected that tell tale freezing of the thought processes as Treize had. It was a design flaw with the neural unit he was not about to reveal to anyone. Otto had recovered himself from the initial shock quickly, scant seconds having passed since Yuy had alerted them. This unit was going to be a problem for lesser talents to foil in the line of their duties.

//A Security Chief responsible for the children of the ESUN's wealthiest and most influential people might be considered a good candidate for the surgery but… I don't believe the surgical costs involved would be justifiable by the University Board of Governors. Not that kind of cost. If not the University then who, and why would they deem it prudent to implant Otto?//

"I suppose, but I would have thought two months would be sufficient to establish if there was a pattern to this splicing."

"We have no real indication of how long a Stalker might have been watching your Mr. Winner." Yuy returned.

//I think it would be prudent to check on the Chief's past. Off hand I can think of a score of people in far more sensitive positions who would be eligible for that kind of surgery. Who would have paid for it//

Again he detected the cessation of the mechanical rumblings marking Otto's mental state. The fault was quit noticeable once you realized it existed, Treize mused. He had missed whatever in the comment by Yuy had affected the Security Chief, and he dragged his thoughts away from speculating to pay attention to the conversation.

"Stalker?"

//Ah. Yes, well we had not mentioned our suspicions, had we?// Treize winced mentally, keeping a mildly curious look firmly in place, and allowing no hint of his discovery to leak through his own shields.

The man's mind was rumbling again as he focused on Yuy. A large hand motioned toward the screen, and then flipped in the air in what Treize believed to be the general direction of the dormitory block.

Chang entered the conversation before Otto could continue. "Going back over the security feed for a period of time might give us some indication of other instances where the feed may have been tampered with. We have no idea if the Stalker has been accessing the dormitory for an extended period of time, or if this is a new development."

Otto literally growled, a low rumbling in his deep chest as he glared between the two, focusing first on Chang and then on Yuy. He was obviously not the least bit amused.

"Stalker? I was under the impression we were investigating a murder. No mention of a Stalker has been made to me before now. I have to ask what leads you to suspect one is involved in this case."

Treize sighed and pressed his finger tips to his temples, narrowing his eyes at the sharp flare of pain. Otto was obviously new to the neural implant, and had little skill in using it. Treize estimated he could not have been in possession of it for more than two or three weeks, to be so inadequate at containing his reactions. That gave him a time frame from which to work in tracing the surgical unit responsible for the implant. The piercing stab of Otto's alarm came across with such intensity he could not doubt the reaction was genuine, and he was thankful the man was quick to regain control. Given a month or two longer it would be no easy task to detect the implant, and what would be genuine thought and what was deception.

"At this time we can not say with certainty a Stalker is involved in the murder, but it is possible." Yuy met the intense gaze without flinching. "Our investigations at this time leave us fairly certain there are at least two individuals involved in this matter, and there may be a third party. We have the victim, of course, and his killer. There are suggestions a Stalker may have been active, and he may prove to be the killer. It is early in our investigation, and I must inform you we will need access to Ms Bloom again in the future for detailed questioning."

Confusion was clear in the emotions Treize was sampling from the Chief, detecting bemusement and no small amount of alarm. Understandable reactions of course, given the seriousness of the situation, but the man seemed to be taking this talk of a Stalker personally. There was an intensity there that seemed odd, and was yet another indication Treize needed to pay more attention to the man.

"Catherine? Well… of course, but why? I know she found the body during her morning roster, and she reported it immediately. I had a quick look around the rooms and could see nothing obviously untoward. Of what possible assistance could she be?"

"It is merely a precaution we guarantee access to her should our investigations lead to further enquiries being necessary." Trieze murmured.

He caught the eye of both young men, who understood immediately he did not want anyone learning Ms Bloom had actually interrupted something. At this stage he wanted no one to know he had discovered her memories had been altered. Since Otto wore an extremely expensive, and very new neural unit, he was wary of the circumstances leading to the necessity for such a unit.

"Standard procedure." Yuy confirmed for Otto's benefit, and glanced again at the screens. "My immediate concern is sending these records to the laboratories. We need to determine when this interference with your security system may have started. It may have been a single isolated instance, or it may go back months. We also might need to requisition more of your recordings. No doubt you understand with the Winner Heir involved in this matter there is no room for error."

"Of course. There is no room for error at all." Otto agreed his tone of voice thoughtful, and Treize caught the muted rumble of the neural implant rise appreciably. A great deal of thought was going on in that dark curly head. "As for Ms Bloom, I assure you she will be available should you wish to speak with her again."

"The security tapes." Chang gently reminded him.

"Yes. I will have the originals sent to the Agency. Or do you wish them sent to the ESUN Security Agencies laboratories, unless you wish to wait for them to be readied?"

"Yes." Treize caught Yuy's impatience and thought to get on with the investigation, and jumped in before he could refuse to wait. "I can wait for the tapes to be readied if you have other pressing matters to attend to, Mr. Yuy."

Wu Fei arched an eyebrow turning a curious eye to Treize, but made no comment. Yuy himself considered the Prime talent for a moment before he shrugged, indicating he was quite prepared to wait. Treize caught the glint in those blue eyes, suggesting he was going to be questioned in private as to why they should not leave the job to a courier.

Otto nodded, reaching for the controls of the digital consol. "I hope you don't need to go back anymore than three months. The standard practice is to erase the records and reuse the disks after a three month period. With the new study term commencing tomorrow, that erasure is due to take place next week."

"I must request you delay such procedures until further notice." Yuy frowned. "Even one extra month may give us some clues."

Otto heaved himself to his feet after ejecting the disks from the viewer. "Then I will arrange for the three months recordings to be packaged. Perhaps while you are waiting, gentlemen, you would appreciate a cup of tea or coffee?" He moved to the door and paused, one hand on the knob. "My office is available if you wish to wait there."

Before anyone could respond in the affirmative or negative a pager bleeped. For a moment the four men all felt for their units, and Otto waggled a finger indicating it was him. Relaxing back into his seat Treize watched as the Security Chief flicked the device to read and stiffened, looking up toward the clock on the overhead display. He grunted softly and tucked away his pager, before glancing at the three men watching him.

"Sorry, it is later than I thought. We have a bus load of students at the outer gate, and I need to be in the detail to see them safely inside and settled. I will give the instruction for the disks you requested to be packaged and brought to you as I leave."

Yuy inclined his head and with a final nod Otto hurried out the door. Heero sighed and stood, stretching slowly and with a great deal of pleasure, suggesting he was as cramped and uncomfortable as Treize. Wu Fei stood and watched as Treize almost glided to the door, peered through the glass insert and then slipped silently into the hallway.

"Treize? Where are you going?"

The Prime flashed a charming smile over his shoulder and kept going, ignoring his partner's irate growl. Yuy frowned and turned an enquiring look on Chang.

"I have no idea." Chang scowled at the closed door and hesitated, then made his decision. "He's an odd one, but I have learned to trust his instincts. He has a bee in his bonnet about something and he will share… Just not here and now, I think. I've found it does not pay to let Mr. Curiosity out of my sight for long. Coming?"

t.b.c

Karina Robertson 2006

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Treize Kushrenada : Level 10 Sending/Receiving Telepath + Receiving and Projecting Empath at Level 10. Prime rated. Agency Operative contracted term of 5 years with 2 years remaining. [25yrs of age Training facility: Psychic Institute Munich Division.

Chang Wu Fei: Level 9 Telekinetic + Receiving Telepath Level 5. Agency Operative contracted term of 10 years with 8 years remaining[22yrs of age Training facility:Psychic Institute Luxemburg Division.

Heero Yuy: ESUN Security Agency Elite Operative. Government sanctioned Genetic enhancements performed by Romefeller Genetic Laboratory, Tokyo for adult service as Security Enhanced Operative. No Psychic Talent. Genetic induced enhancements include enhanced Strength, Hearing, Speed and Olfactory senses. Assigned regularly to liaison with The Agency's psychic agents. [21 / 22 years old

Catherine Bloom: Tsuberov University Security Agent and House Keeper. No Psionic talent. Staff member at Tsuberov for 5 year period. Fitted with Neural shield implant against telepathic intrusion. [25 yrs of age.

Heinrich Otto: Tsuberov University Security Chief. No Psionic talent. Staff Member at Tsuberov for five years. Fitted with a Neural shield implant against telepathic intrusion. Former employment, Sanc Imperial Guard. [35 years of age.


	8. Chapter 8

The Agency 8

They found Kushrenada waiting just beyond the door, with a smirk on his face reminiscent of a cat having enjoyed a bowl of cream. Chang refused to be baited in front of Yuy, and Treize moved off down the hallway, pausing before reaching the first intersection.

Wu Fei resisted the urge to growl in frustration. The man could be infuriating at the best of times, and when he was in this type of mood he could be impossible. If they had shared a fully functional telepathic link, private communication between them would have been no problem. The most he could do was receive communications from Treize, and while Treize could read his thoughts it was a breach of etiquette for the man to do so without prior agreement, except in an emergency situation. 

"So would you care to enlighten us as to what we are doing here? We have other matters to attend to of far more importance than stealing honest work from paid couriers." Chang hissed as he came up behind the Prime.

Yuy joined Chang and glanced behind him. At the moment the hallway was clear and he could hear no oncoming footsteps, but there was no guarantee how long that would last. Any of the security personnel in the building could walk in on them lurking in the hallway, and no doubt it was a curious enough sight to be remarked on.

"Research, Chang. We are doing research." Treize whispered and offered a grin.

Yuy scowled at Chang's puzzled look and followed in silence as Treize stepped boldly around the corner and strolled along as though he owned the building. He heard Chang's teeth grind together and the low mutter, which sounded suspiciously like a four letter word as they followed. A young woman smiled pleasantly at Treize as he approached, noted the security pass pinned to his jacket and nodded as he passed by. The Prime graced her with a smile that oozed charm and Yuy was amused to see her reaction. Clearly she would have liked an excuse to engage the man in conversation.

In his turn he nodded to her as he drew near and she smiled at him, again nodding briefly, and as he passed he noted her reaction to Chang. Her eyes hardened slightly and a frown line appeared, though she did not make any move to delay the agent. A few steps further he glanced back and almost sniggered. Chang considered the day to have been a bad one from the scowl on his face. 

"If you are not careful the wind may change direction, and you will be left looking like that." Treize chuckled. "Loosen up, Fei, you are too tense."

"Working with you, is it any wonder?" The surly growl drew a repeated chuckle from the Prime, and Chang snorted in apparent disgust.

Treize paused at the closed door to the office, glancing through the glass window. Otto could be seen giving instructions to a group of agents, and he settled back against the wall. He was not intending to draw the man's attention and he turned to Yuy.

"Is there another way out of here?"

Yuy considered his previous visit to the security office and the tour Otto himself had given him. The layout of the building had been straightforward, and boasted three entrances overall. "We would need to go through the building to the far side."

"Then we wait a few minutes if we can without being interrupted, and need to dream up an excuse for lingering." Treize decided, unwilling to chance losing Otto for any length of time and glanced at his partner. "Loosen up, will you."

"We are performing research on what, and why?" Chang hissed.

Treize glanced once again through the window and relaxed as Otto and his group of four men departed, the outer door swinging closed behind them. He reached for the handle and glanced at the two men watching him.

"Future working partners." Treize slipped through the door, leaving Wu Fei standing in the hallway with a dumbfounded look on his face.

//Future working partners// That was certainly not what he had been expecting.

"What did he mean, future working partners?" Yuy queried.

"With Treize at the moment, who knows?" The agent scowled at the door. "His moods change faster than wild fire changes direction, and he makes less sense every day." Chang shrugged and sighed. "Truth be told though, I have learned from experience not to take his concerns lightly. He usually knows exactly what he is doing. After dealing with him for so long, though, I could well do with a rest. I believe I will put in a request for a vacation."

Yuy scowled, eyeing the agent with piercing blue gaze and recalling he had been informed previously the Prime was due for vacation time. "You will go with him?"

"Ancestors, no!" Chang looked horrified at the suggestion. "I need to get away from all things Agency related as much as he does."

"Is there a cause for concern with his state of mind at the present time? It is my understanding a Prime Telepathic Empath must have strong shields to maintain the integrity of his mind."

"He is stable enough at the moment not to be a danger to himself, or anyone else." The assurance was quick but Chang continued to scowl as he pushed through the door. "He will require seclusion after this case to work on his shields, and simply to rest his mind and body. He has had a long period with a high workload, and I will ensure the recommendation he be assigned at least two, preferably three months for him to rest is included in my case report. He is a bachelor, though he has a young daughter, and I believe family time would lighten his aspect considerably. Treize is too much the professional to push his limits to dangerous levels. He has already spoken to Une concerning time off."

Yuy was well aware there was a certain tension between the Prime telepath and his department Chief. Unlike Chang he actually knew the source of the dispute between the two. His superiors considered it necessary for him to be fully briefed on persons with whom he was required to work. He had been chosen to be teamed with Agency personnel with more frequency over the past eighteen months, as unlike many others, he did not have a problem working with the Psychically gifted. He did, in fact, enjoy working with them.

"Concern noted." 

He would mention to his Supervisor the need for the Prime to be accorded down time, and that worthy would make a notation in the case records. One of his brothers, an agent as uniquely modified as he himself, had been injured during a field operation in which an overworked kinetic talent had been overextended. Since the incident there were standing orders for agents assigned to work with Psychics to report any concerns on the fitness of their partners, temporary or permanent.

Side by side the two crossed the office space, ignoring the unconcerned glances directed at them from desk-bound workers. Kushrenada had already passed through the office, and they caught sight of the door to the outside closing as they entered the entry foyer. 

"He's not wasting any time, is he?" Chang muttered, increasing his pace.

"No idea what he is up to?"

Striding across the foyer Chang frowned, glancing at the door as he considered his partner and the uniqueness of his personality and abilities. Something about the University's Security Chief disturbed Treize, that much was obvious, and whatever it was he had missed it. Not only he, but Yuy as well, and that could mean only one thing. Treize had picked up on something through his telepathy, or more likely through his empathy. 

//He has already made telepathic contact with Ms Bloom in an unsanctioned session. There would have been every reason for him to sample the Security Chief, looking for evidence of the same type of influencing.//

Was that a possibility? Had something alerted Treize to more psychic tampering, be it on a larger or smaller scale? If such was the case then why would he not have said something to alert them after Otto had left the room? The matter of an unknown and possibly unregistered psychic, with such abilities frankly frightened Wu Fei, and he knew his partner was afraid of what they might find. Lamenting his own lack of strength in the telepathic and empathic fields he could only rely on another's sensitivity to give him the lead. 

"We will need to trust he knows what he is about. As soon as we have reasonable privacy I will be demanding answers, though I doubt Treize himself could really explain at the moment."

Yuy blinked and glared at Wu Fei. "That is not helpful."

"I know." Chang smirked. "If his empathy clued him in on something, he may not know exactly what it is about the Security Chief that is bothering him. He may have picked up on something that may even suggest Otto has had his memories modified. If that is the case, he is not going to be able to perform so much as a surface scan until he has rested, after the work he did on Catherine Bloom."

"Ah." Yuy nodded, his concern subsiding. In matters of psychic ability he knew all too little, and he had to be guided by those who knew more than he.

//Treize has always been sensible and so grounded on occasion he frightens me. I am missing something he detected and is reacting to, and if Yuy has also missed it then I can safely assume it is not something obvious. That clearly suggests either his telepathy or empathy has detected something of interest, though why it should cause him to pursue the man in this manner is beyond me.//

Exiting the Security Office they paused to look around, seeking some sign of either Otto and his group, or Treize himself. Yuy lightly touched Chang's arm and inclined his head to indicate an area off the footpath and partially screened by a garden bed. In the deep shadow of a willow tree, partially screened by the fall of the branches stood Treize. Casual observation might very well miss him, Yuy noted, especially for one of the unmodified humans who did not have his advantages. 

Chang grunted softly and headed for the willow, while Yuy took the time to look around for any bystanders before he too moved to join Treize beneath his tree. Chang snapped his mouth shut on a question when the Prime waved him to silence without turning to face him, and indicated the road past the garden bed. A bus turned into the drive and pulled up in the centre of the parking area, directly before the accommodations building they had previously investigated. Assembled on the steps of the dormitory stood the security contingent, with Otto at their head, and a welcoming committee from the faculty. 

"Shh." Treize murmured. "I want the chance to observe without anyone knowing we are here. You never know what might leak through shields on such occasions as this, or what body language might reveal."

Yuy scowled but settled his back against the broad trunk of the tree and focused on the gathering around the bus. Considering one of the students on the bus was the Winner heir, and the importance of other students who had taken part in the tour, he should not have been surprised there was a reception committee. The school hierarchy would ensure all formalities were catered to when it came to greeting the children of important clients. 

It would at the least be interesting to note the degree of formality the students received, as he suspected there would be some in the group who would be paid far less attention than others. The Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and Research University was, when all was said and done, funded by the fees and donations acquired from the rich and famous, and no slight would be offered to those paying the bills. 

Otto's security team moved to the bus, the four men moving to each corner of the vehicle to keep an eye on the surrounding grounds while the bus was unloaded. The faculty members moved to the foot of the steps and the Dean of the University moved to the door as it opened. A nod, handshake and brief word from the Dean to each of the students as they disembarked, and the teachers and trainers in attendance began to draw the students aside.

Yuy was hardly surprised when Winner was made a fuss of. The short blonde youth was descended on by the Dean before his feet even hit the ground, and he was drawn up the steps and to one side. The faculty staff moved in to take the Dean's place at the bus and began directing the remaining students away from the Dean and Winner. Words were exchanged, more with some students than others, and Otto remained standing mid-way between the bus and the Dean, eyes constantly moving.

//I wonder if this is the usual security arrangements for a return to the university, or if it is in response to the murder// Yuy mused. //If this is unusual the students would have to be severely intellectually impaired not to know something has happened.//

"A touch overkill, I think." Chang growled his own concern. "I thought they wanted to keep this low key?"

Treize refrained from making any comments. While he doubted this was the usual greeting returning students would receive, he could not make a judgement. Perhaps it was quite normal for Tsuberov staff to fall all over their wealthiest and elite. He straightened a little when he noticed Maxwell alighted from the bus, that gleaming chestnut braid unmistakable in the late afternoon sunlight. He was immediately descended on by two of the faculty, who seemed to have a great deal to say, both talking in tandem, and the young man seemed more than surprised. He stepped away from the door of the bus, still listening to the staff, one of whom made a comment, waving a hand expansively, and then turned and hurried into the building.

A tall young man with a cascade of silver white hair, turned pale gold by the sunlight, alighted next and looked around. He noted Winner had the Dean's attention, a cluster of students up by the doors to the dormitory, and a second smaller cluster at the rear of the bus watching as the luggage was unloaded. He glanced at Maxwell as his attendant teacher waved a hand in his general direction and then hurried to the lingering group of students at the door. The group of students were ushered inside with more hand flaps, and Maxwell turned to the tall blonde, beckoning him closer. 

//Interesting.// Treize mused.

The security contingent surrounding the bus moved aside as the last of the luggage was remove, and with a quiet word between Otto and the driver the vehicle drew away. The Dean had now drawn Winner further up the steps. As yet he appeared not to be inclined to rush him into the building, and Winner was nodding regularly in response to whatever the Dean was saying. Treize wished he might have been close enough to hear the conversation, and after considering the level of throbbing in his head decided it was not important enough to push his talent and frayed shields to find out.

Chang moved closer to him and leaned forward slightly, marking the three young men who shared the unit. Maxwell had drawn the blonde to one side and was animatedly talking to him, with quick movements of his fingers and hands to emphasise whatever he was saying, but the topic did not seem to please Merquise. Winner looked up at the upper levels of the building and back to the Dean, and nodded in response to what Wu Fei presumed was being informed of the need and location of the new suite.

//Plumbing problems, I expect, is the excuse they are using. It is viable enough I suppose, but they have to be wondering about the reception committee. Surely Otto, or one of the members of the faculty, might have met the bus and directed them to their new quarters. The Dean appears to be a particularly long-winded individual. I wonder if something else is being discussed? It surely does not take this long to say your room is unavailable and your new room is the next floor down.//

The long-haired blonde Treize had no trouble identifying as Merquise flicked a hand in the direction of the dormitory building, and at a comment from his companion turned toward the one remaining Master who had hustled the group of students to the door. Maxwell grasped the blonde's arm and firmly pulled him to the side and away from the other group, talking animatedly all the while. 

Treize seriously considered extending his talent just enough to gain a reading from those two. Body language suggested Merquise was highly unamused, and Maxwell intent on smoothing troubled waters. He could not understand why the two young men were still outside, and had not been permitted to enter the dormitory. Otto seemed concerned, he noted as the security chief interrupted the Dean with a quiet word, and was waved inside with a head shake in the negative.

"Heero, can you hear what is being said?" Treize turned to Yuy and inclined his head toward the steps.

"Not a great deal, just an occasional word from the Dean and Winner." Yuy frowned. "Otto has been instructed to perform a security scan of the dormitory, and ensure all is secure for the night." 

Yuy straightened his posture and leaned forward a little as he concentrated on the Dean, who now had turned his attention back to Winner. Otto hesitated for a moment longer then moved to gather his security contingent to him.

"It appears the Dean is attempting to convince Mr. Winner to take a single bedroom apartment while the dormitory suite is repaired. One is available, and has been cleared by security for use."

Treize nodded slightly, that was much as he had expected. The Dean would not have been exactly ecstatic at the quality of the company young Winner was keeping. "You can't hear anything Merquise and Maxwell are saying?"

"Something about it not being worth the hassle of saying anything." Yuy shook his head slightly. "I can't hear much. They are keeping their voices down."

"No doubt it would not do to make derogatory comments about the Dean and Masters within their hearing." Treize murmured.

"Winner is certainly the golden boy, isn't he?" Wu Fei mused. "The Dean has not so much as twitched in the direction of any of the other students since Winner alighted from the bus."

Treize watched as the security chief turned and scowled at the Dean before looking around the gardens, no doubt wishing the man would give up and take Winner inside. He was plainly not pleased to have any of the three students outside, and only Maxwell and Merquise were now standing on the steps, the last of the other students having vanished into the building with the attendant teacher.

"I was under the impression if you had the talent to be enrolled at Tsuberov, and the financial backing to cover training, you were considered equal to everyone else." Treize commented quietly. "I don't like this. Maxwell and Merquise should have an attendant. A security guard at the least, and a Master of the University should be in attendance while they wait."

"And just why are they being made to wait on the steps anyway?" Chang rubbed at his nose thoughtfully. "Far from adequate security arrangements, considering the reason we are here."

Yuy grunted softly, staring at Maxwell and Merquise with his head canted a little to one side. "I noticed the extent of that equality between all students myself. Do you think it a deliberate snub, or do they just not notice Merquise is around? They spoke to Maxwell, and he has basically the same background as Merquise."

Chang frowned, glancing at the agent and back to the two young men. "What do you mean, not notice him? He is rather hard to miss, I would think."

Yuy sighed and shrugged his broad shoulders, watching as a security guard vanished into the undergrowth at the side of the house. Otto was giving orders to the other three, and apparently no longer watching the two youths. The Dean was slowly drawing Winner toward the door and they appeared to be arguing now.

"I've had occasion to see it amongst street kids before, especially amongst those who have a higher degree of psychic ability. I suppose the best way to describe it is as a 'no see zone'. They do not want to be noticed by authority figures, and try to make themselves invisible. Generally after a time they do not even realize they project a shield that somehow turns awareness of them away."

Treize had heard of the ability, though he had never actually come across any psychic who could do it. Yuy had described it fairly accurately, too, as it was rather hard to find the exact words for best effect. Merquise would have been well and truly out of his element on arriving at Tsuberov, and Treize could well believe he had wanted to vanish at every opportunity. The problem was such shields became habitual, and if not nipped in the bud the user could find themselves alone and unseen in a crowd, whether they willed it or not.

"A good point, Heero. Did you detect it, or are you simply surmising?"

Yuy shrugged. "I watch people; I note their body language and the body language of those around them. Merquise gave the appearance of not being comfortable with the reception committee."

"Perhaps Mr. Merquise is unaware he is projecting a 'you don't notice me' shield. It could account for a certain measure of the friction we have surmised surrounds him, though I would have expected the Trainers would have detected it. Once noted they should have worked to bring him to a level of comfort with his surroundings, where he wouldn't resort to it as a defence." 

Chang grunted softly and shook his head. "It should not be necessary for anyone to want to vanish into the background. Where is the equality reputed to be so important in this day and age? Winner is fawned over by the Dean, the University Masters whisk off the remaining students, and Maxwell and Merquise are left standing on the doorstep."

"It is difficult to say if it is the result of Merquise's abilities. I would think Maxwell's Sweeper connections would be sufficient to ensure all protocols of the University be strictly observed. It is the Sweepers who control the space lanes. They have the monopoly on the outer system trade routes, and from what I know, they keep close tabs on their prodigies."

"The Sweepers have manipulating fingers in many pies." Chang agreed. "So why does Maxwell have no difficulty in seeing Merquise?"

"I would suspect Merquise is comfortable with Maxwell, and possibly Winner too. They would probably be exempt from his nerves, and reaction to being noticed. I think Mr. Merquise's mysterious benefactor should emulate the same level of care for his ward, as the Sweepers do for theirs." Treize murmured. "I would suspect his bills are paid, and a directive would have been given to the Dean, and provided those conditions are met to the letter his benefactor would not be inclined to do more than occasionally review his progress."

"That would suggest it is a business concern paying the bills. Someone who pretty much is guaranteed to be able to buy a contract… ah." Chang closed his eyes briefly. "I see."

"Yes." Treize murmured, glancing at Chang. "They have rescued a street kid and provided adequate facilities, and exemplary education. They would be reasonably assured of being able to pick up the working contract for a high level psi for next to nothing compared to his true value. Such grey areas in the laws could lead to the equivalent of legal slavery, if the laws are not adjusted for modern times."

Chang scowled and crossed his arms over his chest, studying his partner for a long moment. "That is what you meant about checking on future working partners, yes? As I recall, Une did mention the Agency might bid for his contract. There is the need for another Prime level operative that would justify the expense of a pair of high maintenance Psis."

Treize arched an elegant forked eyebrow at Chang, refusing to be baited by the sly grin, or the goading words. "Yes, she did make a suggestive comment. However, even the Agency might have trouble winning such a contract, considering no one else had expressed an interest in rescuing this particular street kid, and providing him with a secure future. This is his graduation year from memory, and for a potential Prime to get so far without being noticed smacks of manipulation. Someone wanted his presence at Tsuberov kept low key. I believe it might pay to have his background investigated, to learn the identity of those eager to keep a Prime cheaply."

Chang nodded, eyeing the blonde on the distant steps with more thoughtful reflection. Though Treize had not reacted to his teasing, he knew the man understood his meaning. It was an expensive business providing for the needs of men and women who required shielded living and working quarters, rigidly maintained diets, and regular medical and psychological evaluations. There was also the high fee to be paid to the psychic himself for his time and effort expended to the profit of the company, or organization, he worked for.

"Why?" Yuy scowled, clearly not understanding where the conversation was leading. His had been a sheltered and planned upbringing, and he had little true concept of the every day lives of the mass populous. "Is this not a good thing? He's off the streets with its inherent dangers, being properly and exclusively educated, and has the assurance of future employment. It is my understanding that is exactly what the government wishes; to clean up the streets and do away with poverty. What more could a street kid want?"

Treize sighed. Yuy really needed an education in real life. He was brilliant, but he knew only what he had been taught, and his education and contact with the world had been carefully controlled.

"Freedom of choice." Chang murmured, glancing at the ESUN Security Agent with surprisingly gentle eyes. "Even working under a payback contract as I am, I at least had a choice of where and who I worked for. The Psychic Institute offered me an extensive education, and trained my talent to the furthest extent I could attain. When it was determined I could not improve further, my contract was put up for consideration. My details were circulated, and I had seven potential employers offer for my services. Portfolio's detailing every aspect of the work I would be required to perform was forwarded to me, that I might take part in the evaluation process with my Trainers. I was not simply assigned to the Agency; my input in the decision was required by law. There was a thirty day cooling off period, in which I had the option to withdraw from the contract and find something more suited, if I found the work beyond me or my abilities. The fees expended on my daily needs and education were detailed, and a payback arrangement finalised before I left the Institute. That arrangement ensures I have adequate financial support to live from day to day in an acceptable manner, and pay back all money expended by the government on my behalf in my training." Chang shook his head slightly and flicked a hand toward the dormitory. "I somehow think Mr. Merquise does not have the same safety net."

"I think we could just about guarantee he had no safety net." Treize murmured, and his tone suggested it was definitely past tense.

Yuy looked between the two men, the tall elegant aristocrat and the smaller exotic oriental, and wondered just how much of the ways of the world he did not understand. His work had shown him various interesting aspects of day to day living which seemed more than odd to him. Some days he was only too eager to return to his assigned quarters and turn his back on the confusion of a world that made little sense.

"Does this have any bearing at all on the case?"

"Perhaps." Kushrenada considered the agent with a small smirk and a thoughtful look.

"I fail to see how."

Treize considered the implications that seemed so clear to him, and which Chang certainly understood from his reaction. Yuy would no doubt return to his base of operations and, during his debriefing, mention the matter which might, or not, result in him being more intimately informed on the ways of the world of big business and politics. At the least he should receive a thorough briefing on how contracts worked before they met in the morning. Just to ensure he mentioned the matter however, he would provide Yuy with a connection to the case.

"At this time, given our past speculation on the case, I am not willing to forego any consideration, no matter how far-fetched it may seem. It is a fact Merquise and Maxwell share Winner's dormitory, and they have to be taken into account until we determine the who, and why, of the murder. Here is another slant on the situation for you to consider. Do you not think Merquise might make an easy mark for someone to manipulate into helping them gain Winner's attention?"

Chang arched an eyebrow and pursed his lips. "Alternately Merquise might be used to draw Winner to a specific location, at a specific time, where he might be collected more easily away from the watchful eye of the security guards. There are a variety of methods where by both Maxwell and Merquise might be used against Winner."

Heero considered Chang Wu Fei for a long moment, and the possibilities of one, or both, of the young men being manipulated into being used against Winner. The two, particularly Merquise, had considerably less resources to draw on in life, and certainly might be considered possible security threats. Maxwell had the backing of the Sweepers, and for this reason it would most likely be Merquise of the two who could be considered the greater threat. 

"Acknowledged. I understand where he might be a threat."

The Prime let the matter drop there, granting Chang raised a valid point to set Heero thinking. He personally had another view on the matter, and it was one he was not as yet willing to voice. Much would hinge on his next session with Catherine Bloom, and what he could glean from her memories. 

There was something bothering him on a subconscious level about the memories he had glimpsed. He could not place his finger on the problem, but it was there, somewhere in the impressions he had gathered from her mind. He would need to investigate further, but it was enough to assure him Merquise was not a danger to Winner. At least not directly. He would need to look into the pasts of both boys to be objective, as in his position as Prime and investigator on this case, he could not afford to miss any details. 

//I can not make the mistake of having preconceived notions, and must maintain objectivity at all times. I'll not have anyone call my methods or abilities into question. Still, he's a fine looking young man. Damn fine looking. I have to remember not to class him as a boy… there is nothing of the boy about that body. He's approaching twenty-one, and is only four years my junior. //

Dragging his thoughts, and eyes, away from the cascade of pale silver blonde hair, and the recollection of enchanting blue eyes, he watched the Dean escort Winner into the building. He was surprised to see one of the security guards acting as valet, carrying two suitcases as he followed at a discreet three steps behind the two. Otto, he noticed, was gone, and only one of the security contingent remained. That individual exchanged a few brief words with the two young men and placed two large duffle bags at their feet, before fading into the growing dusk. 

"Equal my eye." Chang grunted.

The lights came on, bathing the steps in a soft golden glow as the natural light level dropped further. Treize found himself fighting the urge to walk forward and lead both young men into the dormitory, and defy anyone to argue with him.

"What do they think they are playing at?" Chang scowled. "I have no doubts both are quite capable of finding their way to their quarters. Yuy, did you hear what the guard said?"

"I never caught it all. Something about one of the Masters returning to give them assignments, and I think escort them to their room."

Treize considered the pair waiting on the steps. "It might pay to make mention of this in our reports." He dared loose the constraints he held on his empathy, and extended a tendril toward the two. "Maxwell is fuming, and I would not be at all surprised if he does not offer a complaint to his sponsor. Merquise… is very good at shielding, but his body language suggests he is all too accustomed to such slights."

"I would suggest a point be made of suggesting Merquise might be suitable for work within the Agency." Chang arched an eyebrow at the look his partner turned on him. "What? I know the Agency is understaffed, and you are overworked. We require either half a dozen lower level telepaths and empaths, or one high powered Prime level individual. Merquise fits that requirement for ability if nothing else."

"If he is to be given a fair chance at an acceptable future, the Agency will need to be prepared in advance for any interference offered by his sponsor, or their backers. You are correct; I have made it plain I am not willing to tolerate the workload I am currently expected to fulfil. I think one Prime level telepathic empath would be cheaper to cater to, than upwards of a dozen lesser talents."

Yuy considered the two men and the calculating gleam appearing in onyx and sapphire eyes. They seemed to be in perfect understanding, and he wondered if their section head would be in agreement. Une had not struck him as being a woman with a sweet disposition, who would take kindly to manipulation. 

"This would be an expensive contract, would it not? Would the Agency be capable of outbidding a corporation with such funds already invested in his future? Tuberov fees do not come cheap. Could they not demand reparation of their expenses in a lump sum?"

"By law the contract for a Psi's working time must go up for public review. From that review interested parties make known what they are willing to expend to garner the employment of the talent. Deals might be done on the side lines, but the entire proceedings are supervised by a neutral body under government supervision." Chang mused. "I suppose it is possible they might demand a return on their expenses to date, as a part of any contract."

"It has been done before, and is not so dissimilar to your own contract with the government. If you know who to talk to it is easy enough to circumvent the accepted protocols of these things." Treize smirked at Chang's arched eyebrow. "I did, after all, and no, you do not want to know any more than that. Anyone who has gone to the trouble of setting up someone of Merquise's talents has to be assured they can get what they want out of it in the end. We need to learn the identity of this benefactor, if only for the fact we need to take genetic scans to eliminate the three students from our forensic studies. For that we need parental consent… or in the case of Maxwell and Merquise, that means their guardians."

"I presume we will be required to go through the Dean and the University to ascertain the identity of the Guardians. If you are correct in your assumptions that something not entirely legal is involved, it may not be so easy to obtain direct contact." Chang turned at the sound of booted feet on the walkway. "I think we will need to abandon our position. If I am not mistaken, they are looking for us concerning the surveillance disks." 

"Unfortunately with a good solicitor everything we have speculated on can be quite legal." Treize murmured. "I suppose we will need to make ourselves known."

"Certain guidelines can not be circumvented involving international cases. Winner is of L4 origin, Merquise a Terran, and Maxwell originally from L2 and now a Sweeper citizen. In murder cases DNA evidence can not be discounted, and there is definitely a murder and a possible stalker involved. We need to identify everyone who has been in that suite of rooms, and to do that we need DNA evidence. I will have my supervisor identify who it is we need to approach to secure a DNA sample from Merquise, and who amid the Sweepers can sign for Maxwell."

"I somehow expect it will require something more that a straight forward request to your supervisor." Treize sighed. 

The thought of garnering DNA evidence, and the requirements of gaining samples gave, birth to another idea and Treize found himself scowling in the gathering darkness. The space beneath the willow's canopy was now quite dark, and he could barely make out Yuy and Chang.

"I wonder… There is the possibility Merquise may be wanted for more than his talent… or rather, for more than just the use of his talent."

"That use being?" Chang queried, shifting in the darkness and taking a step back towards the security building.

"Breeding purposes, my dear Chang. Empathic telepaths are about the rarest talents you will find, because of the difficulties in rearing one who can keep their sanity intact, against the forces brought to bear by the pressures of living amongst fellow human beings. Sane telepathic empaths, who have not been brought up in a cloistered environment, suggests strong character and a stubborn streak a mile wide, and the determination not to give in. We might want to do more than just confirm the identity of Mr. Merquise with a DNA scan."

Yuy stopped at the edge of the willow canopy and looked back at the dark form of the Prime. "It's illegal to perform a deep scan without the full knowledge, and consent, of the individual involved., If he, or she, is underage parental consent also must be obtained."

"If you follow the rules, yes, that much is true." Treize smirked in the darkness, and mindful of Yuy's enhanced abilities turned a straight, emotionless face to the agent. "Of course, we would not for an instant consider doing an illegal scan, would we?"

"No, we would not." Chang glared at his partner, willow branches swishing in the darkness as he turned. "What are you suggesting, Treize? Just what is your interest in him?"

"At the moment, Chang, I honestly do not know. Something strikes me as smelling particularly foul about this case. We are missing something, and I have a nasty suspicion it involves Merquise and his benefactor."

Yuy stepped to the cascade of branches and glared across the grounds at the young men standing to one side of the grand entrance of the house. Maxwell had a bored expression on his handsome heart-shaped face, while the older man glowered at the building with something more than boredom. Mr. Merquise was not amused, and making no effort to hide his agitation. Maxwell lightly ran a hand down the taller man's arm and Yuy could lip read the words "Its okay."

//Maxwell seems capable of keeping him contained.// He looked again at that heart-shaped face, the mouth that was slightly too wide for his face yet seemed to suit him so well, and the thick rope of chestnut hair. With a conscious effort Heero dragged his attention back to the matter at hand. //I need to pay more attention to the case, and the investigation does not revolve around his hair… or his eyes. Such unusual eyes. The vid did not do him justice.//

"Well, what are we to do now? We have surveillance disks to collect, and I for one do not intend to stand around here and admire the stars." Chang glanced at his partner. "If you have checked out the potential for a working partner, what more do we need to do?"

//Meet him.// Flashed through Treize's mind.

Dragging his errant thoughts back to the case he motioned toward the security centre and emerged from his dark shelter, giving Chang plenty of time to see him. He was not of a mind to allow the man to know his thoughts had wandered to something entirely not professional in nature. 

"Pick up the security tapes, arrange an interview time with Catherine Bloom for a day or so, preferably the day after tomorrow. We still need to walk the stairwell, interview the security staff on duty that night, apply for the DNA samples to be taken for elimination…"

"Fine." Chang interrupted, waving his hands to cut Treize off. "You may eat at an ungodly hour of the night, but some of us keep more mundane hours. By the time we return to the Agency it will be approaching nine if we are lucky."

"Sally has plans for this evening?" Treize chuckled, and motioned toward the security building, allowing Yuy to precede him. "You go back and I will collect the disks, and have Otto give me access to the stairwell. Unlike you I am a free agent, Wu Fei. I have no one waiting for me at home."

Chang snorted ungraciously and glanced at Yuy who shrugged.

"I have no one waiting for me either. I will remain here and accompany your partner on his continued investigation."

"You know you are not supposed to be working without a Psi partner." Chang glared at Treize.

"Oh Fei, get real. We are at the Tsuberov University. Every safety feature devisable for the comfort of high level Psychics is available here at call. Should there be a problem, Yuy has only to yell and…"

"It's against the rules." Chang growled. "You should not be bucking the rules if you are complaining about stressed shields."

Treize grudgingly admitted Chang had a point, but there was only that empty apartment waiting for him, and a pre-packaged calorie controlled meal in the freezer. "I am in no danger at this time."

"I remain." Chang huffed. "We acquire the vids and the rest can wait for a decent hour of the day tomorrow. I will request Une formally apply for the DNA samples to be taken. Coming from Yuy's people, and backed by the Agency request, there should not be too much trouble acquiring consent. Catherine Bloom made it clear she is not interested in another interview, and yes, our work gives us priority over her wishes. I do not care if she finds it inconvenient. Tomorrow will suffice for arranging another interview with her. The security here appears to be adequate, and they are forewarned, so I doubt a cockroach, if such exist in Tsuberov, could enter Winner's suite. No one will reach Winner tonight."

"Why Chang, I did not know clairvoyance was a part of your talent." Treize glared at his partner, resenting his mother hen attitude to his work hours.

"It is not, but common sense is. You are tired after circumventing her neural device. You will do better for sleep, as will we all."

t.b.c.

Karina Robertson 2006


	9. Chapter 9

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 9/??

Chapter Nine

Zechs decided he would give anything to be standing in a steaming hot shower with water streaming through his hair. The long day had begun with the crowded L4 terminal and the accompanying delay over the unscheduled acquisition of students for the flight. The cramped confines of the shuttle and the noise of the students, whose behaviour had been less than exemplary, teamed with the duration of the flight, had combined to give him a headache. He knew the headache was the result of tension and stressed shields and the arrival at a more crowded and noisy terminal on Earth had done nothing to ease his discomfort.

The journey from L4 had left him tired, aching in every muscle and exhausted, feeling as though he had been rolling in dirt and for some reason space travel always left his hair dry and frizzy. He resisted the urge to run his fingers through his mane, knowing just the feel of it would make his skin crawl. Nothing short of a good long scrub with shampoo and at least a five minute session with conditioner would restore it to its proper glory.

All he had to do was fight off Maxwell for the first use of the shower.

//It's not even as though the terminals, be they on the colonies or on Earth and the space shuttles are dirty. I don't understand why I always feel this way. I know why I ache, the damn seats are too small and close together to be comfortable and I never have liked being crowded. Maybe I need to work more on my shields but faulty shields would not frizz the hair. //

He found he was twisting a heavy lock of pale hair around a finger and resisted the urge to sigh, dropping the lock hastily. Sighing would accomplish nothing other than to draw the attention of a particular professor Zechs would much prefer to avoid. Overall the trip had been a good break away from the University and he had had the opportunity to see some interesting and in some cases rather exotic sights. He had never had the opportunity to go abroad or even leave the city before this trip and the colonies, particularly Quatre's L4 home, had been an eye opener and given him a wider view of the Earth Sphere.

Unfortunately having seen something now of the colonies and having spoken to high positioned Psi's Zechs had begun to wonder what awaited him following graduation.

//I wonder where I will be sent after I graduate? It's all very well for them to be indignant on my behalf, but I don't know if I can legally object to where ever it is decided I will be contracted. The Dean sounded apologetic about not consulting with me over the prospective contract, but when all is said and done he has no say. The final say belongs to the Question Mark and the Dean has to do what he decides. If Duo and Quatre are right I should have a few months to consider options, which means I should be given information within the next two months on interested parties. I'm not sure what would happen if I refused to accept whatever contracts they decided I should consider. Or what would happen if I was told I was to accept a particular contract and no other option was given to me. My schedule should include detailed discussion on contracts, but so far there has been nothing mentioned. Quatre and Duo are right. In theory I do have rights and I should stand up for them, but would that bastard who pays my way take any notice//

He had learned the hard way, within days of arriving at Tsuberov, there was one set of rules for the rich and famous, such as Quatre and for those with high powered commercial backing such as Duo. He, the lowly orphanage import was in another class entirely and much, much lower on the food chain. Minnows, after all, did not eat sharks and he was more in the league of plankton than being classed as a fish of any substance.

His Question Mark, the unknown body who pulled his strings and ran his life as he, or she, saw fit… He didn't even know his guardians gender. His early questions had been ignored, his curiosity unsated and eventually he had stopped asking questions. It had been made plain it was not considered necessary for him to know so much as the name of his sponsor. What was expected of him was for him to excel at his studies, in particular his Psi training and to forget his past and the freedoms he had known. He was a Tsuberov student and had standards to meet.

//Why do I feel as though I'm being watched//

It was not so unusual a feeling though somehow this felt subtly different. Zechs was all too aware certain Masters and Professors at the institute were less than enamoured of his presence. Street kids, even talented ones, were considered a lower class citizen by those hyped by their own importance. Low class citizens were not to be trusted and must be observed lest they feel inclined to trespass on sacred ground, or acquire that which did not lawfully belong to them.

Being watched was something he should be accustomed to but it still bothered him. Technically he was not even a street kid as he had not lived on the streets for any length of time, nor on a permanent basis. He had constantly escaped the supervision of his supervisors at the Orphanage and visited less reputable areas of the city. As he had grown older he had found it easier to escape their control despite the measures they had taken to contain him to the limits of the grounds initially and later within the main buildings of the establishment. Having talents of the mind had been an advantage for him against which the staff had been almost helpless.

He was not even sure why he had sought to escape the orphanage. They had cared well for him and he had never received particularly cruel discipline for indiscretions, even when he had returned time and again to the streets. Somehow they had always managed to find him and return him within days. Then the representatives from the University had arrived and everything had changed, including his ability to outwit his keepers and escape at will.

Yes, he could feel eyes on him, he was not mistaken. The sensation was too familiar to mistake, though he rather felt these eyes were less judgemental. Odd. His imagination was no doubt running rampant with that judgement. He might even be imagining the attention as none of the students or Masters present appeared to be paying him any particular attention. There was usually one or two of the disapproving sort to be found amongst the teaching staff who always found fault. He could be sitting quietly in a corner and paying no mind to anyone around him, but it seemed as soon as he was noticed he was targeted for accusations.

//I suppose I'm exaggerating a bit. I've been able to escape their attention more often than not over the last two years. Ah, God, why do we have to stand around like this? I want a shower and something to eat. I just want to go to bed. Why are we stuck out here//

He tried not to glower at the group of students gathered around Master Evens. That worthy was detailing classes for the next day and arguing with one of the students who objected to the last minute changes. Could they not at least have been permitted to reach their rooms before revised schedules came up in conversation?

It was, of course, typically efficient Tsuberov. Secure the students as a captive audience, give them their work placements and only then allow them to relax. They were not even to be permitted a single day to settle back into the dormitories before commencing classes.

The small huddle of students closest to the doors picked up their hand luggage and followed the Master into the building. Zechs could not be sorry to see Professor Havers out of his sight, as the man was one of the few who thought anything out of the ordinary had his name stamped all over it. He appeared to be a personal insult on the Professors glowing credentials and was not permitted to forget his lowly station, be it in the man's class or in a more informal setting. Some people were naturally antagonistic and he had no doubts he and Havers would never see eye to eye.

//Not that I can say I have found a single student unfortunate enough to be in his classes who actually likes the man. He's a weed. Unfortunately he's a damn learned weed and knows what he's talking about, at least in theory. I think he would be in trouble if he ever had to survive outside of a University environment though. He has no real concept of life beyond books. He would not last a day in the back streets of the city. //

Duo had informed him Havers had given instruction for them to wait to one side as there was a problem with their suite and they would be settled once the other students were taken care of. The Professor had not lowered himself to speak to him of course, which was probably just as well given his current rather cranky state of mind. He would probably have had the poor grace to tell the man where he could shove his 'await our pleasure' and gain a detention and sanctions before classes even began.

Why should he expect anything to be different on this occasion in comparison to his past? After all, it was not as though he was the only one stuck out on the doorstep awaiting the professor's notice. Duo was beside him and Quatre had the joys of the Dean in his face again, no doubt espousing the virtues of a private suite or rooming with a better grade of student.

//Move into another suite, Mr. Winner. We have a private one available, or perhaps sharing a suite would be suitable with the heir to this or that fortune. Move in with your own class, there is no need to slum it with the dross of the earth.// He almost smirked at the thought, but to do so would undoubtedly draw unwelcome eyes to him.

Zechs had initially been placed in a two bed dormitory suite but he and his room mate had not exactly grown to appreciate each others company. By the second year he had been resident in his own room and the only one available had been a three bed dormitory suite. None of his fellow students had volunteered to room with him and considering his attitude the previous year, the powers that be had decided to permit him to remain alone. Then Duo had arrived and he had found himself with a room mate and no one had been more surprised than Zechs when they had gotten on so well. He had heard enough whispers about space flotsam and street debris going hand in hand to ignore comments and be thankful Duo considered him good company.

The Dean had been scandalized when Quatre had found them fascinating and requested to be moved from his private suite to room with he and Duo. Requested? No, Zechs would be honest and admit Quatre had not asked but informed the Dean the move was to be made post haste. The Dean's entreaties to The Winner on L4 had surprisingly been refused and Quatre had moved in. After having met his father, Zechs found Quatre reminded him of The Winner, and he had found the man to be more than impressive. Winner had a presence about him impossible to miss and people practically fell over their own feet to be of service to him.

//After meeting his father I can see why Quatre is the way he is. All that power and despite it both of them are actually nice people. Headstrong, obstinate, overly informed, dynamically charismatic… but nice. They are not at all what I expected.//

Experience had taught him some days it was best not to be noticed, especially when everything he did seemed to be construed to be an insult to the glory of the University. When Zechs had met The Winner he had felt it best to disappear from sight and mind, lest he do something to insult the man and bring down the wrath of the University on his head. He had known he would never hear the end of it should a complaint be made against him. Oddly it had not been exactly easy to escape that worthy's notice and he had spent a surprising amount of time in The Winner's company. Duo had had private time with the man also and he assumed the Winner went out of his way to personally ensure his guests comfort.

Zechs had, of course, been on his best behaviour and he doubted even the worst of the University Masters could have found fault. At the University Institute, no mater how hard he tried, he never seemed able to meet their exacting standards. He had long ago decided his efforts would always be considered a failure so why bother? He maintained sufficient civility and manners to keep all but the most rabid of the Masters off his back and avoid frequent visits to the Deans office. When away from the overseeing eye of the Masters and in polite company, he was more careful to exercise due civility and mind his manners. Most of the Masters seemed to have accepted the status quo, though there were some who demanded absolute perfection of him.

//No one is perfect, not even Quatre Winner and certainly not me. If they want more out of me they can go jump off the nearest cliff. I have only a few more months to go and then I'm out of here. //

Though if leaving the University for gainful employment was to be an improvement or not remained to be seen. No contract offers presented to him was worrying enough and the lack of scheduling to discuss even theoretical contractual obligations was more disturbing.

"Hey. It's okay." Maxwell lightly touched his arm, the feather touch of one who knew Zechs preferred not to be touched. The skilled neutral touch of a person with Psi training. "Lighten up, Zechs. I don't know what you are thinking but you look as though you are about to deck someone. It's okay."

Zechs shook his head slightly, blue eyes flicking to the Dean and Quatre now standing near the door, though the Dean had as yet made no effort to draw Quatre within the building.

"Do you ever get tired of being looked down on? At least on the streets everyone is honest about where they stand in relation to a pile of shit."

Duo winced and flicked a quick glance around afraid they would be overheard and not eager to begin the term with disciplinary action. "Lighten up, will you? Do you want to sit more elocution lessons? Let any of the Masters or Professors catch you talking like a gutter rat again and you will find yourself resitting the full course of language studies."

He could not contain the shudder at the thought. "Do you mind? Having to deal with dancing lessons is going to be bad enough. I thought I'd finished with all this idiocy. Stand this way, walk that way, don't talk like that, head up, raise your chin more, pull your shoulders back, don't use such common terminology and remember your r's… I thought they had decided they had succeeded in making me presentable for polite society. I thought the consensus was no silver spoon would ever fit in my mouth, not even an imitation one."

Duo chuckled and shook his head. "Yeah, well some of us are just too aware of how the world really works. Stuffed if I can figure out how those snobs talk like that." He rotated his left shoulder trying to relieve an ache that really needed a good long soak in hot water to find relief. "What's wrong with learning how to dance?"

"I don't want to talk about it." A soft grumble.

"Fine." Duo had the grace not to smirk or snigger at his friend's discomfort.

For a few minutes they stood in silence, watching as another group of students were escorted into the dormitory building. Quatre and the Dean had departed too and Duo began to scowl when a security guard deposited his duffle bag at his feet. It was almost dark and the air was cooling off rapidly.

"I need to do a quick tour of the area. The Master should be back any minute so don't go anywhere, okay?"

Neither Zechs nor Duo had any problems with the man so both acknowledged him with brief nods. Both had had occasion to run into him in the course of his professional duties and he had always been fair in his treatment of them. It was not the security staff or even most of the service staff at the University who were a problem for either young man. Most were honest with the students and did not pretend to be more than they were. The Security contingent had treated Zechs well, even when returning him to the office from his attempts to depart the grounds in his first year. None of them had seemed to blame him for desiring to escape the strictures surrounding him.

Neither spoke, each nursing their own private aches and pains and debating how best to secure the shower for their own use first. Duo even considered sharing but decided the cubicle was just too small for two and the hot water was going to feel better on his aching muscles if he could lounge comfortably. The sun had set now and the night air, while not uncomfortable was still rapidly cooling and there was no sign of the Master returning.

Duo nudged his duffle bag with a booted toe and sighed, his fingers drumming an irritated beat against his thigh. "How much longer are we going to be made to wait? I was looking forward to a decent shower and an early night."

"It could be worse." At Duo's disbelieving look Zechs grinned. "I don't think Quatre is going to take too kindly to the Deans plans to tuck him safely into bed."

A snigger escaped the shorter youth and he flicked a glance at the open doors. "I'd love to see him try. This is getting way past a joke, Zechs. Maybe he had a private message from Quatre's Dad?"

Zechs appeared to be attempting to study the ends of a lock of hair in the poor lighting. "I think it far more likely the Dean is trying to convince him to move out again."

"You are probably right." Duo agreed. "Come on, come on, people. We are the only ones still standing here for Gods sake and I know I'm in trouble when Zechs starts looking at his split ends."

"Hey!" Zechs growled at him, dropping the lock of hair and thankful the lighting was poor enough to hide a blush. "I don't have split ends."

The low lighting illuminating the driveway and entry steps to the building emphasized how dark the grounds were. Marquise growled low as a security guard strolled past, his booted feet crunching loudly on the loose stones of the parking area. The man nodded briefly to them, checked his watch and moved on.

"This is past a fucking joke." Duo snarled and bent to pick up his duffle bag, straightening with an angry glance at the open doors. "Come on."

"Planning on joining me in language studies, are you?" Zechs murmured considering his own battered duffle where it lay by his feet though he made no move to pick it up.

"If I have to. I've had enough of waiting. I will be lodging an official complaint with the University and sending correspondence accordingly to the Sweepers. This is not good enough."

Zechs nudged his duffle gently with his boot toe and sighed. He had no doubts no one would listen to any complaint he lodged, but maybe Duo would have more luck. In the past his Sweeper guardians had proven to be willing to listen to Duo's concerns, though they had not always agreed with his views. At least Duo could be assured of a fair hearing.

"Well, I wish you luck getting anyone to acknowledge unfair treatment for peasants."

"Peasants, Marquise? I don't see any of those around here."

Duo made no effort to hide his unhappy scowl or his surprise as he spun to find the Security Chief approaching them. Curiously the man was able to move silently over the stony surface, unlike the guard who had previously walked by them. Otto had on more than one occasion surprised him at less than opportune moments.

"Who else but peasants are left on the doorstep hoping to gather crumbs from the rich and famous?" His eyes flashed with his temper and he made no effort to hide it from the Security Chief. He was not of a mind to back down, even to Otto after having stood on the doorstep so long.

Otto sighed softly and mounted the steps to consider both young men with narrowed eyes. After a moment he motioned toward the door. "Would you mind explaining why you are out here and not in your suite?"

Duo hissed, eyes narrowing as he glared at the man and he bared his teeth in a feral grin.

"Because we were told to keep our common arses…" Marquise snapped his mouth shut as Otto frowned at him.

"Would you mind using language appropriate to your position as Tsuberov students, please."

Duo growled softly but decided it would be better not to aggravate the man. He wanted a hot shower and something to eat before falling into bed and fighting on the doorstep would accomplish nothing. Otto had proven himself to be a fair minded man in the past and it was even possible, if they could get him on side, they could make some trouble for the Masters who had left them standing on the doorstep. He was not feeling particularly forgiving at the moment and a little payback against those who considered themselves to be superior might be nice.

"We were politely requested to wait here as there was a problem with the suite. A Master would be along to escort us and give us our updated study roster and required material list for tomorrow. That was more than a half hour ago when there was still such a thing as daylight."

Otto sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly unamused. Duo could almost hear him counting to ten to contain what might have been a curse. He could count the number of times on one hand Otto had used an expletive in front of a student.

"I see. Come with me and I'll walk you up. I'll find what has happened to your revised schedules later and see that you are given them. I'll make a point of having a note of explanation at your classes should you be missing required study material tomorrow."

Duo arched an eyebrow in surprise. He had not expected Otto to go so far as to ensure they were not blamed for being ill prepared for classes. It went someway toward mollifying him for being left on the doorstep, but he still intended to complain and forward the complaint to his guardians.

"You'll walk us up? Are we incapable of finding our way up a couple of flights of stairs now?" Zechs snatched his battered bag up and scowled. "I think we are capable of finding our own way to a room we have used for years."

"I have no doubt you could, but you will find yourself locked out of the suite. Unfortunately you will be unable to use that suite for a week or three due to unavoidable circumstances. Were you not informed there have been some major plumbing problems?"

Both Duo and Zechs looked suitably blank and Otto sighed and shook his head, motioning for them to precede him. He was far from amused at finding the two young men still waiting on the steps and he would be following up the matter. Given the current circumstances this breach in security was unforgivable. He had a fair idea who was responsible and he would enjoy seeing that worthy squirm.

"Plumbing problems?" Duo arched an eyebrow. "There was nothing wrong with the plumbing before we left."

Otto waved aside the comment. "Once the problem is rectified the walls will require some repair work. Another suite has been readied for you so you will not need to deal with interruptions or be inconvenienced at this stage of the term, particularly you, Marquise."

Duo tossed his bag over his shoulder and nudged Zechs, getting him moving and followed him into the foyer. Otto followed close on his heels and passed them, heading for the stairs and seeming not to be inclined to chat further. The Sweeper prodigy could not help considering that silence a challenge.

"The Dean has finally managed to get Quatre into another suite, hey? They've been trying long enough."

Otto resisted the urge to wince, displaying none of his reaction to goad Maxwell into running away at the mouth, a habit that had earned him the name 'Motor Mouth' on more than one occasion. None of the students in the upper years at Tsuberov were blind to the displeasure of the staff at Quatre Winner's choice of room mates.

"I believe you will find Mr. Winner will still be rooming with you."

Duo snorted and rolled his eyes, trying to keep his temper under control. He was tired and more than a little cranky and was exercising far less caution with his tongue than he normally observed. He was not accustomed to being left on a doorstep and while Zechs was giving the appearance of simply accepting it, he was not so brow beaten by fate nor intending to be. Someone would learn the enmity of Duo Maxwell was something you did not want to earn.

"Hey Otto, what's it like to be a respected member of society who isn't walked on every five minutes?"

The Security Chief actually stopped mid way up the stairs and turned to glare at the smaller slender youth. Zechs could almost hear him counting to ten to contain his response to something more in line with the standards of the university. It made him feel a little better that Otto had come close to losing his control. It might even mean Otto would be having words with the responsible parties.

"Your brand of humour is infamous Mr. Maxwell and I strongly suggest you refrain from exercise it in my hearing. When it was determined repairs to the plumbing could not be effected speedily, I had my staff transfer your belongings and study materials to your new rooms. I have assigned you rooms in the same relative position to your former suite though on a lower floor." He glanced at his watch and sighed, his scowl deepening. "The cafeteria is closed so its no use you trying to make it there, or sending for something to be delivered to your rooms. Why don't I call out and order you some pizza? It will only take a few minutes for it to arrive and I believe you all have early starts in the morning?"

The offer by the security chief to allow a pizza delivery from outside the school cafeteria was more than a little shocking. The diet of the students was rigidly monitored and their calorie intakes noted on a daily basis. To balance their work load with their energy levels was considered a vital component of teaching proper use of their Psi talents. Psi abilities used calories comparable with physical activity and each student had a set regime to follow to maintain prime working standards.

"Yeah, whatever." Dou grumbled, toying with the end of his braid, aware he was being less than gracious to the man who was responsible for them no longer standing on the doorstep. "Sorry man. It's been a long day and it has not exactly been a great homecoming."

"I can imagine you never expected to find yourself standing on the doorstep. I can also assure you it has been something of a trying day for everyone at the university." Otto paused and subjected each young man to an intense scrutiny before he motioned them closer. "I doubt any of the Masters or senior students who arrived before you would think to tell you, so I may as well explain to you what else has happened. No doubt the rumour mill will have already exaggerated the detail out of all proportion."

"Gossip?" Duo looked surprised and then interested, smirking at his companion and sidling a little closer to the Security Chief. "Hey Zechs, this is cool. We get the official word before the gossip for a change. Great, heh?"

Otto resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose and grind his teeth. He was known to do that with increasing frequency when Duo Maxwell was in the vicinity. The Sweeper prodigy was graced with near insatiable curiosity and seemed to have made it his mission in life to get under Otto's skin.

"Maxwell, do you have to be so…" Otto sighed contemplated the hand rail for a moment and continued. "Of course you do. You would not be Duo Maxwell if you did not. There will be rumours flying about the student body, particularly the younger and more impressionable, not to mention imaginative students by morning, so listen up. There was a death on the grounds during last night."

"Someone carked it? Wow." Duo turned serious as he caught the expression on Otto's face. "So what happened?"

"There are no gang wars involved and no lovers tryst gone wrong, nothing outlandish or world shattering, okay? I know how you kids like to blow things out of proportion and by morning the rumour mill would have churned this around until it hardly resembles the facts."

"Who died and how?" Zechs queried.

"Who it was does not concern you and I can assure you it was not a fellow student. The next of kin need to be notified and their permission granted before we can publicly release information concerning the death, particularly his identity. I am sure you both can understand the protocol of these situations. Somebody fell down some stairs and broke his neck. That's it. No little green men from Mars, no midnight assignations, nothing more. It was simply an unfortunate accident."

Duo looked considerably deflated. "That's all?"

Otto inclined his head and motioned toward the last of the steps ahead of them. "Yes, Mr Maxwell, that's all."

Duo considered the revelation of a death on Tsuberov's grounds for all of a few seconds and plumbing problems forcing them out of their usual suite and he found himself wondering if the two events might not be linked. He was blessed with a fertile imagination and was not afraid to exercise it.

"Bummer. I thought maybe there might have been some excitement around here for a change."

Otto stepped onto the first floor landing and eyed the younger man intently. "Your version of excitement is not necessarily good for the university and I will thank you not to encourage the younger students in outlandish speculations."

"So who was it?"

"As I have already informed you, the next of kin must give consent for us to release details that include the identity of the body. In other words, Mr. Maxwell, it is of no concern to you. There is an investigation into the matter as it needs to be determined what an unauthorized person was doing where they should not have been. Outside investigators have been brought in, so you will most likely notice new people on the grounds for a day or two as these things can be notoriously long winded. I will thank you to keep your attention and curiosity where it belongs, aimed squarely on your studies. Mr. Marquise, you are quiet, nothing to say?"

Zechs glanced at the Security Chief and shrugged as they turned toward the staircase leading up to the second floor of the building. Otto was looking expectantly at him and Duo was grinning like a lunatic, pleased to have annoyed the Security Chief.

"What's to say? A man is dead and we have been told to keep our curious and inferior noses out of it."

"Marquise!" Otto glared at the blonde but snapped his mouth shut on any further comment.

Duo pursed his lips and remained silent, not wishing to set off a tirade and deciding he had pushed enough. There was most likely nothing in the matter to concern him or Zechs but if he could have signalled his friend he would have asked him to peek at the man's thoughts. They might have learned something interesting about the death, such as if the plumbing problems in their suite and the death were related. He liked to read a good who-done-it, though he was not exactly enamoured of the idea of a death occurring in their suite.

Otto shook his head and in silence increased their pace up the flight of stairs and to the second floor landing, motioning to the students to precede him along the hall.

"I will order the pizza while you have a look around the suite. The layout is identical to the layout of your old rooms and I had your personal belongings placed in your bedrooms. Let me know if anything was missed."

Otto followed after the pair as they walked briskly, noting the tired slump of the blonde's shoulders and the oddly cheeky sway of the chestnut braid across a tight derrière. He halted both before a door like too many others and stepped to the far side of the electronic lock quickly punching in a code before glancing at Duo and motioning toward the thumb pad.

"Right and then left thumb please."

Duo, always interested in security features of a mechanical nature, eyed the lock with slightly widened eyes before raising an eyebrow and looking to Otto. He pressed his right thumb to the pad and inclined his head to the lock.

"That's a mark five."

"Indeed, Mr. Maxwell, it is a mark five. Your left thumb print please."

Duo pressed his thumb to the sensor pad which beeped. "Yeah but…"

"Get real, Duo. Quatre, remember? Only the best will do." Zechs sighed.

Otto refrained from making a comment and motioned Zechs to apply his digits to the sensor in his turn. The lock beeped and Otto typed an authorization code into the device, then glanced at the blonde.

"You can now enter and leave at will and access authorized functions of the lock." Otto tripped the door sensor and motioned Zechs to enter the room. "After you, gentlemen."

Zechs stepped through the doorway though Duo still stared at the lock as though he could not quiet believe he was seeing what was so plainly in front of him.

"Mr. Marquise what do you think you are doing?"

Duo growled but Otto was around him and in the room beyond before he could move, his presence effectively silencing the unmistakable voice of Professor Simon Havers. The room seemed to have an ominous silence as Duo slipped into the lounge suite to find Quatre sitting on the couch with a set and rather stony expression on his face. The Dean was just rising from the couch and looked far from amused and Professor Havers had a thin hand wrapped around Zechs Marquise's right wrist.

"Professor Havers." Otto's voice was neutral but his eyes were plainly on the two men closest to the door. "Do you have a problem, Sir?"

"A private conversation…"

"I hardly think entering a room warrants such a reaction, Professor. Please." The Dean nodded briefly in greeting to Otto and pointedly looked at the Professor who removed his hand.

Duo could see the finger marks of the Professor linger around Zechs's wrist and glowered at the man with agitated blue/violet eyes. The Professor seemed to ignore the displeasure of Otto and made no commentary to the Dean, merely stepped back from the door.

Otto moved past Zechs and placed his large frame between the blonde and the Professor before glancing at the Dean. "I escorted the students to the suite since their listed escort seemed otherwise occupied."

Professor Havers bristled visibly at Otto, almost sneering until he noted the frown deepening on the Dean's face.

"I am sure there must have been an unavoidable delay for which there will be a sound reason given. Where have you gentlemen been all this time?"

"Outside, on the steps of the dormitory, Sir." Otto responded before either Duo or Zechs could and motioned Duo further into the room, guiding Zechs past him with a finger pressed lightly to his forearm. "Get settled in, please, while I arrange for a meal to be delivered."

Both students were more than happy to place half the room and a few pieces of solid furniture between them and the Professor, who was subjecting Otto to a look that would surely shrivel a lesser man. Quatre took the opportunity to step behind the Dean and crossed the room to join his dorm mates, effectively drawing the Dean's attention away from the Professor and the Security Chief.

"I believe I have made my preferences clear, Sir. My father quite liked my friends when he met them and has no problems with my continuing to share the suite." The perfect diplomats smile curved his lips and he inclined his head to the Dean. "If you would excuse us, we should really settle in."

"Of course, Mr. Winner. I hope you all will find the suite as acceptable and as comfortable as your former rooms. I trust you will put your best efforts into the coming term." The Dean turned back to the Professor and motioned toward the door. "After you, Professor Havers."

Quatre bit back the comment he was certain he would be every bit as comfortable as he had been in the old suite and merely nodded politely and the Dean paused beside Otto.

"Run a final security check, if you would please Otto. I want everything secure for the night and perhaps you should see about having a pizza, or perhaps Chinese, delivered to the main gates for the boys? I believe it a little late for the cafeteria to still be offering services. We shall square the matter with the dieticians tomorrow."

"Indeed, Sir." Otto murmured. "I will ensure the security locks are in place and the students have an evening meal. Ah, Professor Havers, I believe you have the adjusted rosters and study lists for both Mr. Maxwell and Mr. Marquise?"

The Dean watched in growing frosty silence as Havers produced a sheaf of papers and deposited them on the breakfast bar before stalking out of the suite.

"See the Professor's details are removed from the lock, Otto." The Dean sighed and stepped out of the room.

"With the greatest pleasure." Otto murmured and turned to make the necessary adjustments to the security protocols

"Have you any idea how inappropriate it is to have Winner in the same room as such common dross?" Havers voice carried clearly into the room.

Otto jabbed a finger almost viciously into the lock key, closing the door on any further conversation between the Dean and the Professor. // It would appear Marquise knows certain people better than most. Peasants, he said and in light of what I just heard I can't argue with him. You slimy little toad, if I have my way you will finally be relieved of your place here. If disciplinary action is not taken against you I may have no other option but to step in and pull a few stings.//

He could feel the weight of eyes on him and when he turned from changing the lock codes to exclude the Professor he found all three young men watching him. Otto inclined his head slightly and motioned imperiously toward their bedrooms.

"Go and make yourselves comfortable. The pizza will be here soon enough."

Quatre flashed him a brilliant smile and a wave of warmth reached him, the glow of the high level empaths pleasure. With a nudge at the shoulder of Zechs and a push at Maxwell towards his room Quatre turned and vanished into his bedroom. After a moment Zechs turned with a low sigh and entered his room and only then did Duo move, retreating to his room with a brief nod for the Security Chief.

//Havers and the few like him are making things unnecessarily difficult. If I can have Havers made an example of things may settle down for the term and Marquise might lift his scores a little. Prejudices such as the Professors have no place in this society, where your ability is more important to most people than your bloodlines. Not that there is anything wrong with any of their bloodlines.//

He efficiently saw to the ordering of pizza and notified the main gates to expect the delivery and, while the students unpacked and made themselves comfortable, he ran a security check on the suite. Given the suspicions of the investigators he paid particular attention to the small door opening into the garbage collection well. Satisfied no one would be entering through that access he turned his attention to the windows.

//It will not take long for Maxwell to realise the windows and garbage door are now guarded with a laser trip system and level five security lock. His damnably insatiable curiosity will have him wondering, but hopefully he has sense enough to not worry the other two, particularly Marquise. That one needs to get his scores sorted unless he wants another year here. //

The lasers crossing all entry points to the suite would trigger a silent alarm in the security building should the beams be interrupted and his men could be in the suite in minutes. The monitors would never be unattended and only select individuals were cleared to access the level five security codes. He checked the log of cleared personnel on the master security panel and satisfied settled to await the pizza delivery.

He really should have expected Maxwell to show interest in the lock. To cover the situation he would need to see a few other level five systems installed in the dormitory block. Maxwell would think it less odd if there were other systems in evidence and he would slate the senior dorms for a full security upgrade. Maxwell was known to be found dabbling in computer systems he had no right to venture into, so should he find the entry he would be less inclined to allow his imagination to run rampant.

//He's a smart brat, that one. I can well understand why the Sweepers are hopeful of his future success.//

The door chime drew his attention away from the sounds of movement in the other suites where the students were sorting out their personal belongings to suit themselves. The security guard saluted his chief and handed over two boxes of pizza before hastily returning to his duties. Otto tripped the lock and carried the pizza to the kitchen.

"Mr. Winner!" Otto called placing the boxes on the breakfast bar. "Your evening meal has arrived. Sorry for the inconvenience of having to swap rooms but it could not be helped. I'll lock the door on my way out."

Quatre appeared in his bedroom doorway dressed casually in track pants and an old, rather ratty looking T shirt. "Thank you for the help, Otto. It was much appreciated."

"Not a problem. Have a good night."

Finally alone in the suite all three students gathered around the breakfast bar and proceeded to stare at the pizza boxes. Otto had locked down the security system and Quatre gave his dorm mates the security codes as he chose a slice of pizza from the first box.

Zechs was staring unhappily at a limp lock of blonde hair and hardly seemed interested in the details of the system or having something to eat. For his part Duo was burning with curiosity as to why the upgraded system was considered necessary, though he was quick to snag himself the largest slice of pizza in the box.

"So what do you think has been going on since we left? The Dean said there are major plumbing repairs required. Do we honestly believe that excuse or is something else going on?" Quatre queried. "I kept sensing intense unease and alarm from the Dean and Havers was just unpleasant, as usual. That man tends to swamp out most emotion with his slimy presence, but I gather the Dean was not exactly lying but certainly skirting the truth."

"A dead body found in the stairwell behind our suite is more likely the cause of the upgraded security." Zechs eyed the first pizza for a long moment and then examined the second offering before choosing a slice. "Otto has already told us someone was found dead on the grounds and suggested we pay no attention to the rumour mill tomorrow."

"A body? I see." Quatre glanced around the suite and then watched as Zechs picked bits of olive from his pizza and set them on the side of the box. "Except for the colour scheme and the mirror imaging it could be the same suite."

Duo scooped the discarded bits of olives up from the box and practically inhaled them. "So… Do you think Otto was telling us the truth? This place has a level five security system on it and before we left level four was the max. You know it surprises me he bothered to tell us anything." Maxwell glanced from Zechs to Quatre and shrugged.

"The Dean mentioned nothing to me about bodies, only plumbing problems. No doubt he is concerned about fallout from parents if word gets around they have had a death on the grounds. I would expect Otto's version to be a bit more realistic."

"Well, they are not going to be able to keep it quiet forever. Otto said there are investigators from outside the University security detail involved in the death. He said they will not be releasing details until the next of kin have been notified. I doubt they will reveal much until the investigation is concluded and the University is proven not to be at fault in the death."

Quatre considered the pizza, picking a second slice and shrugged. "Maybe what he said was the truth. We all know what the rumor mill around here is like and irate or fearful parents could panic. I would think he was trying to avoid some of the fuss by hoping we might be able to quiet the worst of the rumours. He's sneaky like that, getting others to do some of the work for him. It's true enough the younger students have been known to blow things way out of proportion. If it's widely known there is a body everyone will be curious and want to see where the body was found."

"Given I don't honestly believe there is anything wrong with the plumbing, I'd say the body was in the dorm and somewhere near our suite." Zechs murmured around a mouth full of pizza.

"Well, the service stairwell is a restricted area and Otto knows only too well how good you are with locks Duo. Maybe his thinking is more along the lines of if you know some of the facts already you might be less inclined to investigate. Breaking into crime scenes is frowned on." Quatre smiled sweetly knowing how Duo loved a challenge.

Duo shrugged wondering how long it would take him to learn the most intimate details of a level five security system. The investigators would most likely have upgraded the crime scenes security to keep the curious away and he could not resist a challenge.

"Maybe. You could be right, but if he thinks that will stop me…"

Quatre arched an eyebrow and projected an irritated field in Duo's direction. "No trouble the first night back, please."

"Oh fine." Duo helped himself to his third slice and nudged the blonde beside him. "What did you get from him, Zechs, anything interesting?"

"Not a thing. I think he must have undergone an implant upgrade, or he has learned a great deal on effective shield use in a small amount of time. All I could pick up was an infernal rumbling I've not encountered before. It's different to the old system he was using."

"Rats. No help there then. Did you pick up anything from the Dean or that asshole Havers?"

"I wasn't really in the room long enough to try and you know the Dean has an implant. Why a natural telepath bothers with those still makes me wonder."

"He's only a level three send and receiving telepath." Quatre murmured. "Way down on the register. Emotionally he was agitated and uncomfortable about me being here, but there is really nothing unusual about that, especially if there is a body involved."

"We had nothing to do with that and having met your dad he does not strike me as the sort to freak if he did find out." Duo returned. "Did you get anything at all from the Dean, Zechs?"

"Not a lot. Sometimes he leaks despite the implant. I'm tired though so I didn't push. I did tap into something, but I'm not sure it has anything to do with the body so much as the investigator. He seemed concerned, displeased really about someone who has been called in. At least I think that was what I read and there was something about a refrigerator."

"A fridge?" Duo straightened on his stool and stared at the telepathic empath in surprise.

"Just a glimpse of one. Hell, maybe there was no milk for his breakfast cereal this morning. How am I supposed to know? I'd be in deep shit if they find out I tap into their thoughts sometimes."

"They should expect a certain amount of leakage and curiosity in an institute of this kind. Human nature being what it is." Quatre grinned. "What about Havers?"

"Do you mind? I was not going to dabble in the oily bastards thoughts. I'd never feel clean again."

"Point." Quatre acknowledged. "I guess we will have to be content for the moment with what we know. A body in the stairwell is more than most of the student body would know. I have to wonder how it got there and who it was."

"Who, what, where, why and how." Zechs muttered, resting his head on his arms against the breakfast bars cool surface. "That's the investigators code, isn't it?"

"I think 'when' is supposed to be in there somewhere." Duo murmured. "We will be dealing with tighter security for sure until they finish their investigation. As if there was not enough security to deal with before. You're not eating Zechs."

The older youth sighed and straightened slowly, pressing a hand into the small of his back. "I'm tired, that's all. Just stewing over being left outside for so long it puts you in your place."

Quatre scowled, glancing between the two. "You guys were really outside on the doorstep all that time?"

"Leave it Quatre." Zechs murmured. "It's just not worth the bother."

Duo snorted and picked the olives off a piece of pizza, eating them before handing the slice to Zechs.

"Like hell I'll be leaving it. I'll have a complaint ready and lodged before first class and a copy of it will be on its way to the Sweeper Councilor handling my case. You don't turf me out of my room and leave me standing on a doorstep after dark without an explanation and expect me to take it kindly. You also don't call me common dross and expect to get away with it either."

t.b.c.

Karina Robertson 2006

———————————-

Heinrich Otto: Tsuberov University Security Chief. No Psionic talent. Staff Member at Tsuberov for five years. Fitted with a Neural shield implant against telepathic intrusion. Former employment, Sanc Imperial Guard. [35 years of age.

Quatre Rababer Winner: Psi student, 2nd year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Current Level 5 Telepath, projected Level 7, Current Level Receiving Empath 9.3, projected Level 10, Prime. Current Sending Empath Level 2, projected Level 4. Colony of Origin, L4 Cluster [18 years of age

Duo Maxwell: Psi Student , 3rd year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Level 8 Psychokinetic ability, projected level 9. Sending Telepath Level 5. Colony of Origin L2 Cluster [ 18 years of age Sweeper adoptee. Under pre contract agreement with Sweepers.

Zechs Marquise: Psi Student 5th year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Level 10 Receiving/Projecting Empath [approaching Prime Designation Level 9 Sending /Receiving Telepath, Projected L10 function. Finder function suspected, not officially registered. Country of origin, Luxemburg. [20 years of age

Master Evens [Professor Carl Evens: Tsuberov University. Master of Physics ad Mathematics Department. Non Psychic. Fitted wit a Neural Net implant. [62 years of age

Professor Simon Havers: Professor at Tsuberov University. Non Psychic. Fitted with a Neural Implant. [58 years of age

Dean Alexander Hargraves: Dean at Tsuberov University and Parapsychic Institute. Neural Implant. Sending / Receiving Telepath Level 3


	10. Chapter 10

The Agency: Meeting of Souls 10/??

Chapter Ten

This was the time of day he most enjoyed, when it seemed the world slept and for a few minutes he could enjoy the beauty of the rising sun and the absence of white noise. For this precious time before the world stirred into chaotic routine, he could lower his shields and simply enjoy being.

Treize watched the rainbow of colours arcing across his ceiling with the faintest of smiles curving fine lips. It was a quiet time, a time when those in the apartments surrounding his slept. A few were stirring, he could sense their rising awareness. One was cursing the alarm clock, still more than half asleep and mindful of a past record of falling back asleep and being late for work. Another was sighing and wishing they had not woken so early, having another thirty minutes before their alarm was set to wake them. The world around him was stirring to wakefulness and his quiet time to draw breath was coming to a close.

The prism catching and refracting the light in a blur of colours over his ceiling hung in the open window and rocked gently to the first hint of breeze of the day. On the ceiling the rainbow moved in response and rocked, mirroring the prism's movement. It would be a fine day and he could not lie in bed and contemplate the more simple pleasures of life for long. Within an hour the apartment complex would be chaotic with the thoughts of its inhabitants as they prepared themselves for another day of work.

This was perhaps the best time of the day for him, free from the normal chaos of input he dealt with. His normal working day required he operate on the edge, his shields stressed and threatening to plunge him into chaos. This time of peace was so slight and much sought after. A non-telepath or empath could not appreciate the simple beauty of breathing in the mental silence.

Telepaths and empaths lived with the constant overflow of the people surrounding them. Thoughts and emotions constantly assaulted the individuals psyche and those sensitive to it and unable to shield found their individuality submerged beneath the onslaught. The rarer telempaths, individuals graced with both telepathic and empathic attributes, lived on the edge of insanity and a Prime in the field even more so.

The mass of thought produced by a single person, while uncomfortable, was nothing compared to the chaos to be found in a city. The emotions and thoughts of the populous were constantly shifting, rising and falling with the events of the day but always overwhelming. This apartment complex was only one small section of a mega city and some days it was all he could do to close out their mental and emotional emanations.

On first arriving at the apartment his fellow tenants had been no threat to his sanity, his shields being more than capable of protecting him. That was changing as his increasing distress left him more and more exposed to their white noise, the subconscious and surface thoughts of those surrounding him. His shields were stressed, not dangerously so at this time and he was determined not to permit himself to drown in the overflow should he allow the situation to continue.

He considered the rainbow and the gradually intensifying colours as the sun shifted. In a minute or so the sun's rays would no longer strike the prism and he would lose that small exquisite example of natural perfection. He took pleasure in natural beauty and a rainbow did not thrust unwanted thoughts and emotions upon him. It was a pleasure to simply enjoy these quiet few minutes of peace, one of the rare moments he looked forward to in a day.

He lay stretched out on his bed, the sheet drawn to his hips, his left arm over his belly and his right thrown up to frame his head. It had been a warm night and he had not slept well. Thoughts of the murder and the possibility of there being a stalker loose in the university had disturbed him to the point he had seriously considered giving up on the idea of sleep. There had been so many questions to be considered and no answers were forthcoming.

//There may be something I missed in the suite. I need to have another session with Ms Bloom and maybe that session will give me some clue I missed. I'm sure there was something there, some 'thing' just on the edge of her recall that would assist us. //

Intense blue eyes rolled to the window and he smirked. Mr. John A. Bertram would need to purchase yet another alarm clock. The consternation coming from that individual was a semi-regular occurrence, as the man had a tendency to throw his clock across the room and swear mentally as the clock impacted. This would make the third clock in two months the accountant needed to replace. It was also the signal for Treize to acknowledge the time and protect himself against the minds of others.

With a sigh he reached for the remote control and watched as the privacy screen rolled smoothly into place, sealing the window against the prying eyes of his neighbors. A second button was pressed gently and he felt the activation of the psychic screening in the sudden silencing of those few active minds and the absence of the muted rumble marking the amalgamated minds of those still asleep.

The human mind was never silent while life existed and even the sleeping mind produced thoughts and dreams that could be touched by a telepath. Heightened empathy picked up the emotional responses reflecting the dreams, or subconscious thoughts ranging from a remembered herb's flavor in a casserole to the disgruntlement a newborn infant experienced in the moment before waking to demand a feed. Some of those subconscious emotions were not so innocent and the quiet moment before waking tended to bring out the darker side of the human conscience.

His apartment came complete with the very best in psychic shielding the Agency could provide to ensure their Prime had a quiet mental zone in which to rest. No telepath could penetrate these shields in a probe and no non-telepathic impulses could enter to disturb his rest. In the noisy world of day to day humanity this was his only personal haven.

Glancing at the clock Treize decided he did not particularly fancy lying in bed any longer. The sun had moved and the prism no longer caught the light and he was due to rise within twenty minutes. He shut off the alarm and swung his legs out of bed, taking the time to stretch slowly and thoroughly. He needed to schedule a few hours of gym time, he decided as a stiff muscle resisted and he ran a hand through his mussed hair.

//Well, another morning. I wonder what this one will bring.//

The loft style apartment was open plan and his bedroom was elevated giving him a full view of the length of the lounge and into the kitchen. Sunlight streamed into the kitchen and he moved to lean on the railing circling his bedroom and watched as the automatic timer activated and his morning coffee began to brew. He really needed a good coffee of a morning to get motivated and it was becoming harder to get excited about the prospect of going to work.

//Damn it, I need a vacation. //

He was becoming tired of that repetitive thought.

He straightened and stretched, reaching high and holding the stretch to feel the pull on his muscles and know by that pull he still had the comforting limitations of a physical body. There were days he craved physical sensation, something physical to overpower the sensitivity of his mind and ground him in solid, smelly humanity. He needed the reassurance of knowing he was more than mind and his physical needs had too long been ignored.

//Maybe when I finally get that vacation I can find someone to spend a little quality time with. Purely physical quality time. //

He padded into the en suite and started the shower running before finding a fresh towel and placing it on the warming rail. Turning he surveyed his naked self in the full length mirror and seriously considered his reflection.

He was a handsome man, he knew that. He read it in the forefront of the minds of too many women and not a few men he encountered in his everyday activities. He was attractive enough physically to draw the eye of a prospective partner, but he had had few physical relationships. He had been sexually active since his sixteenth year, but his burgeoning telepathic and empathic abilities had interfered with an active sex life.

One of the most annoying features of his talents was his inability to turn off his talents during the intimacies of sex. If you combined physical touch with raging desire, no psi shield could keep out unwanted thoughts or emotions and teenagers had remarkably little restraint when in lust. Necessity had seen him curb his experimentation in the sexual games adults played. He had improved his mental shielding over the years, though due to early experiences he no longer sought out physical relief.

For him to enjoy a sexual experience he needed the supreme intimacy of a mind to mirror his own. He longed for a partner whose mind was his equal in skill and talent, whose body sought out the consummate pleasure as he did. He knew there would be many people who would not, or could not, understand sex for the sake of sex did not stir him. He needed to find someone who could mesh minds with him as neatly and pleasantly as their bodies could mesh in the dance of love.

Love, not lust. He sought so much more than lust.

"One day, Kushrenada, you'll turn around and he'll be standing there, right in front of you and you'll know. Just by looking and touching his mind, you'll know."

He ran a hand through his dark red hair and sighed, turning to step into the shower. Sex on its own paled into a base need beside the full glory of a mind meld. He had not experienced the ultimate intimacy himself, but it was something he instinctively sought and this need was not something peculiar to he alone. He knew many of the active high level empaths and telepaths shared the same problems as he when it came to their sex lives. There were a few fortunate pairings of high talents who had found their ideal match and what he felt from them was something he desperately wanted for himself.

Of course his sexuality created a problem in itself. He was, to his certain knowledge, the only homosexual telepathic empath in the Prime rankings for his field. He was not in the least sexually interested in the female of the species and that aching need for a partner of his own sex had already seen him in trouble with his family.

"Une." He leaned back against the wall of the shower and allowed the warm stream to flow over his head. "Why did you have to want all of it? Why couldn't you be content and settle for a contract as Leia did? She understood the problem and did not want everything, but you had to have it all. Why couldn't you settle for having a child and not wanting the title of Duchess to baluster your family fortune? It was a generous contract, but you had to demand so bloody much."

In all fairness she had been young and her family had been pushing her to provide far more than a mere breeding contract. They had sought the right to the Kushrenada name tied to their own by marriage and confirmed by heirs. Une had been young and at that time she had never been beyond the influence of her grandfather, who had been likened to a bad-tempered bulldog on more than one occasion. He had ensured his granddaughter believed his desires were her desires and nothing short of marriage would be acceptable to her or to her family.

//Too many see the title and the fortune that goes with it, but it takes more than them demanding a marriage contract to get this particular Duke to agree to a wedding. The merger of companies with the wedding admittedly would have made a nice little increase to the Kushrenada empire and opened up a few new business opportunities. It would have pleased the oldsters of both families, but they pushed too hard and too fast and even upset Aunt Hortense. It takes a lot to upset that old harridan, but they managed it. //

He had wondered for a time if he might not find himself leg shackled to a female despite his sexuality and inability to perform in certain intimate areas with said female. The contract offered to the Une family stated clearly enough his sexual preferences and either her oldsters had chosen to ignore it or disbelieve it. The final scene with Une in tears and the oldsters of either side snarling at each other still made him wince. In the end, despite the scene and the accusations and threatened recriminations, they had not gotten their marriage nor had they an heir of Kushrenada blood to strengthen their psionic talents.

"I need to check on Marie. It's almost the end of the month and I did promise I would take her on a holiday with me now she is getting older." He squeezed a generous amount of shampoo into the palm of his hand and lathered his hair well. //I don't regret agreeing to contract for you, Sweetling. In truth I would have liked another child. //

He missed his little girl, who looked far more a Kushrenada than a Barton. That flame red hair was his grandfather's legacy but her blue eyes were his own. She was an angelic cherub, who thankfully was not being spoiled rotten by her mother and doting grandfather. He took particular care to maintain good contact with both his daughter and Leia's family and he had not had cause to regret agreeing to the contract with the Bartons.

In today's society the psionic gene was in high demand. It had been noted early in the development of their psychic society that certain talents, most notably high level telepaths and empaths, had difficulty with sex. Every Psychic with a reading of six or higher on the accepted scale, was required by law to provide a minimum of three children during their breeding years. With the passing of this law by the ESUN council in an effort to have demands met as the psychic influence grew in their society, it became an accepted practice for telepathic families to contract for children. Contracting spread the precious gene lines into multiple families instead of restricting the genes to one or two families for a full generation.

Artificial insemination techniques saw the need for close physical contact to secure offspring was not an issue in breeding new generations of increasing sensitivity and abilities. It was not empaths or telepaths alone who offered contract for breeding and all fields of psychic ability were expected to produce an adequate number of children. The accepted equation at the present time stood at three, one child per parent to maintain the status quo in the existing population, plus an additional child to fill the growing needs of society.

The practice of contracting for children was strictly policed and the contracts were complicated legal documents. No psychic lightly entered into such a contract and there were checks and balances in place to ensure both the parents and the child's rights were adequately considered. His own circumstance of being a homosexual meant the contracts were to his benefit, as he was required by law to father a minimum of three offspring regardless of his sexual preferences.

His homosexual status was listed on his contracts as a matter of course. The possibility existed the sexual genetic trait might transfer to his progeny. The family of the mother might need to consider the child's sexual preferences in later breeding concerns. It was his personal hope the Kushrenada inheritance might be passed on to a child of his whose conception might be considered something of a miracle a hundred years ago. He was hoping to find his ideal match and in this day and age there was no hindrance to males producing offspring together, with the aid of a surrogate to carry the child.

He personally was not ashamed of his sexual orientation and to be homosexual was not socially frowned upon as once it was, though in certain circles there was still a stigma. Having children was no problem with genetic screening and in vitro fertilization techniques and there was always some woman willing to carry a child for a fee. It was his family and their tradition-bound obstinacy that saw him hounded to wed and provide a Duchess. He had lost count of how many times he had been told to wed was his duty and he should reconcile himself to normality. In the oldsters' view being abnormal was nothing to celebrate.

He sniffed indignantly and choked as he inhaled water. A brief couching fit rescued him from the indignity of drowning in a shower and he cursed himself for his stupidity. He should know better than to think of his tradition-bound oldsters interfering in his life. He had full access rights to his daughter by Leia Barton and perhaps it was time he gave consideration to having a second child. Mariemaia was approaching six years of age and she was, at this time, his only heir.

"Still, with this work schedule… I'm tired." He ducked under the spray and allowed the hot water to sooth him as it washed away the shampoo. //Where would I get the time to pay attention to a second child as well as Marie and maintain the current work load I am under?//

The bottle of conditioner found its way into his hands as he considered the implications of arranging a second contract. He would need to determine who in the telepathic and empathic circles was considering a breeding contract. If he was considering another child he might as well make certain it would be accounted one of the three he was required to produce with another person with high level psychic ability. He was, after all, working at having his work load reduced, which would only benefit his family life. The elders were constantly grumbling over the age of his daughter and the lack of siblings.

//It is something to consider when I am on vacation. I might even mention it to Mariemaia and see what she would think about having a brother or sister. There would be an age difference, but I think she might like the idea of being an elder sister.//

One provision placed in any contract for further children would require Mariemaia Barton Kushrenada be granted visiting rights to the new child. He might not have his children living in with him, but he would not have them separated from each other. If such a condition was not agreeable he would not be signing any documentation.

He lathered himself liberally with herbal soap, the aromatic and chemical properties of which were formulated to relax him and only wished he had the time for a long soak in the bath. Baths were a luxury reserved for evenings, however, when he desperately needed to relax following the tensions of the day. He had a full day ahead of him and just about now his coffee would be nearing the perfect brew. He winced at the thought. Machines just could not make a truly decent cup of coffee but he had spent a fortune on the machine in the kitchen, as it could produce what he termed an acceptable cup. At least it was decent enough to stimulate him to face the day.

//I need to sort my priorities. First, get this case solved so I can have some down time. After the case is concluded I need to put some form of acceptable order into my shields and maybe have a chat with one of the other Primes. I wonder where Gabriella is at the moment? She might be willing to make some time for me and discuss how best I should handle Une and her schedules.//

It was not so much the heavy schedule he had found himself on that he needed to change. He could cope with such hours for extended periods of time, so long as he was given adequate opportunity periodically to recover. He needed time to clear his mind of the residue he absorbed from the minds of those he was required to contact in the performance of his duties. Inadequate time between assignments was only the cap of the iceberg however and what really annoyed him was not a mental need at all.

He dared not acknowledge aloud, even to himself, the simple truth. A large portion of the tensions disrupting his routines had little to do with the heavy work load and everything to do with his currant sexual status. It bothered him that such a base need as getting laid should disrupt his physical and mental functions to the point it affected his ability to perform his contractual obligations.

He needed to get laid.

If he approached one of the other Primes it would become blatantly obvious to them at a glance what a large portion of his problem actually was. He could not see himself fronting Gabriella and admitting he needed sex to improve his performance. Unfortunately, Gabriella and every other Prime in his field were astute enough to read him like a book.

"God, I can just imagine a conversation concerning my sex life with Gabriella. She is bad enough at the best of times, but that is one subject I do not want her concerning herself with."

How was he to stand secure against the mental noise of any sexual partner who could not shield their own active mind from him? He needed physical release, but he wanted so much more than the act itself. As easy as it was for Chang to casually tell him to get laid it was not so simple a thing to accomplish to a satisfactory conclusion.

He could not do casual. He had never been able to perform casual sex. In the intervening years, with the growth and development of his talents, it was even less likely he could enjoy a casual sexual encounter.

It was rare he found someone who could stir a sexual response from him. At sixteen his talents had been awakening, late for a Kushrenada and he could and had enjoyed sexual encounters. By eighteen his casual days were past, his talents at such a level and growing stronger rapidly that for him to have sex without the melding of body and mind was simply impossible. That did not stop the body from yearning, even though the mind was incapable of complying. It would be a raging disaster if he tried and he was not willing to subject himself or anyone else to such failure.

A fleeting image of palest gold and silver hair darkened by the setting sun flashed into his mind and he cursed softly. Yes, there was undeniably a physical response to that pale vision and that simply would not do. Not at this time.

"Merquise." The breath of a whisper and he turned his face up to the spray. //I believe you could match me… mentally. What about physically? Would you, against all odds, be a match for me physically? Knowing my luck you would be as straight as an arrow. //

He ducked under the spray to rinse off and tried not to think of the pale cascade of hair and the crystal blue eyes he had seen only in a photograph. He really was low this morning. A twenty year old student he had never met face to face and he was fantasizing about him in the shower. Amid a telepathic community it was equivalent to rape.

"God."

Treize sank to the floor of the shower, his back sliding down the tiled wall and he turned his face up to the spray trying to wash away the thoughts. What colour would he be? Pale but not white, the photograph suggested a very pale gold tinted tan. If that colour was natural to him and not the result of tanning… He wrenched his thoughts away from the very desirable picture forming in his imagination of cream gold skin glistening with water…

He slammed his fist against the tiled floor and the burst of pain failed to banish the thoughts. "Get a life, Kushrenada."

At least Merquise was not underage. That was the only concession he would gift to his conscience at this time. At least he was not fantasizing about a boy, but a young man who, should he chance to be homosexual, would be legally of age to respond to any advance Treize might make. If he could dredge up the courage to make such an advance.

//This is not good. Perhaps a bout in a VR unit might take the edge off//

He personally did not favor the use of virtual reality units to aid fantasies, but if he was anything he was a realist when he had to be. The demands of his physical yearnings were getting in the way of his work and even testing his ethics if he was beginning to place a face to the body he sought to possess. If there was no immediate relief forthcoming soon he would be driven to distraction. Work was hard enough already without fantasizing uselessly about long-legged blondes with cascading pale hair and intense blue eyes.

"Get a life. Don't do this." He growled at himself and thrust himself to his feet. "You pathetic deprived bastard, get a life."

He had better control that this and needed to regain command of himself. He shut off the flow of water and grabbed a towel, vigorously rubbing his hair. He would need at least a half hour session of deep meditation to command control over errant thoughts and squash any physical overflow. He had a reputation to maintain and his work ethics would not permit him to go into the office at less than his peak efficiency.

He wrapped the towel around his waist and reentering the bedroom settled himself in the center of his bed and in a series of measured breaths he took himself down into trance.

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His body was a distant awareness at harmony with the flow of peace from his mind. Heart, body and soul existed in harmonious cooperation within the expanse he inhabited. Neither was more than the other, none was less than any other element of the whole. Within harmony there was peace.

Peace was desirable above all things.

It could not, of course, last.

The incessant chiming intruded on the peaceful haven surrounding him. It was discord within the harmony and its presence disturbed his satisfaction with life and produced irritation. Some remote part of him recognized the sound and named it 'vid phone' and determined it to be of importance. His reluctance to venture from the harmony and deal with the distraction was compounded by that small, but annoying, part of him demanding he rouse himself to attend to the duties associated with his life.

He drew a deep breath, increasing his awareness with the breath and rose from harmony where all was right with the world, into that other existence where annoyances were the norm and peace a rarity. By the fourth measured breath he was aware he was seated in the center of his bed and the vid phone was still shrieking for his attention. For all of two seconds he considered ignoring the summons and promptly dismissed the desire. If he did not respond to the call he would have security on his doorstep checking to ensure the Prime had not slit his wrists.

Unfortunate thought, he mused as he slipped from the bed, unfortunate but a very real scenario. Telepathic empaths were notorious for ending the pressures beating at them day and night by attempting suicide. The overload of input could very quickly reduce a Prime level telempath to the status of a gibbering idiot or helplessly suicidal. The employers of Primes in his field kept their Primes under close surveillance to protect their interests.

There were only nine functioning Primes in his field for a reason. Perhaps soon there might be a tenth talent who would be as carefully observed as each of the other Primes.

Intent on silencing the annoying device he descended the stairs rapidly, misjudged the third step from the bottom and stumbled the rest of the way down. He was fortunate not to have landed on his face and was not in the best of moods when he reached the vid unit. With no small amount of temper at yet another disaster making itself known so early in the morning, he stabbed at the control switch and swore mentally.

He was practically naked and why had he forgotten he was only wearing a towel? Said towel was coming loose because of his fall on the stairs and Lady Anne Une stared at him from the vid phone and she was blushing.

For some reason he had thought the woman had grown out of blushing.

"Something I can do for you?"

He made no effort to cover what could not be covered though he made certain the towel did not give her more of an eyeful than it already had, by grasping the formerly tucked end before it could elude his grasp. She made a good recovery, he noted as she dragged her eyes up to where they should have been since the towel would not oblige her by dropping that last precious inch.

"Tsuberov University has contacted Yuy. He's on the way to the University. Meet him there."

She might have been attending to business but it was not his imagination. She was ogling the view and enjoying it if that deepening flush was any indication. It was a relief she was not lingering over the call and not attempting to indulge in social chit chat. Nor was he inclined to delay her from her normal duties and he could feel the towel slip on his right side, threatening to reveal all. He hitched his hip a little to press the towel into the front of the unit to allay that danger and scowled at her, noting where her gaze lingered.

"Has Winner been accosted in his new rooms?"

"Someone broke into the murder scene through the night. Apparently they have vandalized the suite and Tsuberov really do have plumbing problems now."

"I'll be there within a half hour. Do I expect to find an Agency forensic team or…"

"Yuy's people are already on it." Une interrupted. "I have alerted Chang and he will meet you at the University complex. I'll be expecting your initial report by noon if not earlier."

The screen went dark and Treize sighed in relief as he straightened. At least he had not flashed the Commander, but he really needed to buy larger towels. He felt he had been molested just from the heat in her eyes.

Treize grasped the towel and stomped up the stairs stark naked, glaring at the offending material.

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If the University had wanted discretion the previous day, they seemed to have undergone a change of policy overnight. Treize took particular note of the assortment of vehicles in the car park at the rear of the dormitory as he turned off the ignition. He noted Chang's assigned vehicle pulling into the only remaining space on offer three slots from where he had parked and congratulated himself on snaring the closer space. It was petty and far beneath him but it had not been a good morning thus far and he was not inclined to be particular about any small pleasure that might come his way.

Two vans prominently marked as plumbing contractors dominated the area, each with their rear doors open displaying a wealth of plumbing supplies. A suspiciously large van, unmarked with any logos or writing, he recognized as a typical ESUN Security Forces forensic unit and parked beside it was a marked police car. The four vehicles filled the smaller front row of the car park.

In the second and longer row of parking spaces, in addition to his own vehicle and Chang's, was parked a low slinky sports car. The dark red vehicle he recognized as having been driven by Yuy on a previous case. Two luxury cars, notable for their personalized number plates, told him there were at least two Tsuberov officials in attendance. Possibly the Dean, he mused and perhaps even a member of the Board of Governors of the establishment concerned with this second breach of security. Two clearly marked Security vehicles filled the remaining parking bays and he supposed Otto would not be a particularly happy man this morning.

He could sympathize with that considering his own morning.

Chang Wu Fei draped himself over the roof of Treize's vehicle as he surveyed the car park with obvious displeasure. "This is Tsuberov's idea of discreet? One can only hope they have not contaminated the crime scene as it may give us vital evidence."

"Yuy should have been here early enough to keep contamination of any evidence down to a minimum. Otto strikes me as having more than sufficient sense and experience to keep everyone out of the suite once the discovery was made." Treize responded as he closed the car door and locked the vehicle. "My concern is what might have taken place in the suite between the time the intrusion occurred and the time Otto arrived. What time is it?"

"Eight forty, give or take a minute or two." Chang looked about the car park and the visible grounds and scratched absently at his ear. "The grounds are quiet. I wonder how long that will last?"

"I believe classes begin as early as eight thirty on some days. From the schedules I saw the majority of classes have a nine a.m. start. The students should now be having breakfast and making final preparations for their first class, so I would be more concerned with being trampled in the rush sometime in the next fifteen minutes. We do not need students running around in the halls to further compound the problems involved thus far in this case."

Chang's grunt was safely neutral and Treize ran his eyes over the assortment of vehicles once more before stepping away from the car and drawing Chang with him. Side by side the pair walked on the path skirting the side of the building to the main entrance and each kept an alert watch out for any evidence of obvious disturbance in the flower beds on either side of the footpath. Both men paused by unspoken agreement at the foot of the steps, each man eyeing the building for a long moment.

"No sign of obvious disturbance in the beds around the ground floor windows." Treize mused. "If this is our killer or stalker we need to determine how they are accessing the building… if they are not one of the resident students, of course."

"Still no students in evidence." Wu Fei mused, glancing at his wrist watch. "I would have thought there would be some movement by now. It is too quiet."

"It may be the students of Tsuberov are far more conscientious about time tables than my past experience of such establishments would suggest." Treize motioned to the door for Chang to precede him. "I am, however, inclined to think someone may have removed them in advance of our arrival."

Chang grunted, having come to that conclusion himself. Perhaps the student body had been moved from the dormitory and the university was being more discreet than he had originally presumed upon arrival. Wu Fei reached the last step and was about to turn to Treize when Otto appeared in the doorway. The man looked harried and Treize could well imagine the grief the Dean and the Board of Governors would be giving him over a second unauthorized incursion in to the dormitory.

"Mr. Kushrenada. Mr. Chang. My apologies for calling you out again and so early. It has not been the best of mornings and I somehow doubt it will improve."

Chang offered a nod by way of a greeting and motioned toward the interior of the building. "What happened? Our Commander was not exactly forthcoming with details."

Otto motioned for them to precede him into the foyer. "I am hoping you will be able to answer that question for me. The residents of room 220 rang security around seven this morning to complain it was raining in their living room."

Treize arched an eyebrow and decided Otto might be in for a worse morning than he. He was hopeful his own day would improve but he was doubtful the Security Chief could hope for the same improvement.

Chang blinked. "Raining? Lovely. Were they enjoying a torrential downpour or merely a sun shower?"

Otto ran a hand through his hair and looked amused. "Unfortunately it was well on its way to being a torrential downpour."

Treize stepped through the doorway and noted a security guard stationed discreetly near the doors. Chang, he noted, barely glanced at the man as he entered and Otto nodded to his man as they passed.

"When the on duty guards investigated the suite above 220 they discovered the lock on the suite had been smashed. Before they entered they called me and waited for my arrival before opening the door. They had already noted the carpet at the door was soaked. When I arrived we entered the room and found…" Otto hesitated and finally shook his head with a diffident shrug of broad shoulders. "Well, you'll see what we found. Someone went off their head."

Treize was surprised when Otto stepped quickly around Chang, motioning him away from the staircase they had used the previous day. At his curious look Otto motioned to the door to one side of the stairway and opened the door revealing a long wide hallway with dark green carpet and elaborately decorated walls.

"There are elevators at the far end." He murmured by way of an explanation. "I have walked up those stairs more times today than I care to think about and I'm not inclined to do it again."

Chang led the way through the door followed by Treize and Otto brought up the rear though his long stride soon placed him in the lead.

"In a nutshell the suite has been ripped apart and if I didn't know better I would think someone had taken to the walls with a sledgehammer. The problem with that theory is the residents of the suites on either side are occupied and none of the students who live there heard a blessed thing. Nor did those in the rooms directly beneath the suite on the floor below."

"No one heard the intruder?" Chang sought clarification, frowning and giving Treize the impression of a thundercloud forming.

"No one on either floor heard a thing. The residents of 220 were being rained on and from the look of their suite it had been raining for a considerable time before any of them woke up. Other than that no one seems to have noticed anything odd."

Treize frown deepened as he followed the Security Commander into an elevator. If the room was as badly damaged as Otto suggested, then there must have been a noise element involved. The fact no one had heard anything suggested to him there had been some form of psychic suppression involved in the incident. If that was the case it was disturbing, as it implied a phenomenal and dangerous talent if one psychic could block so many people from hearing a disturbance. If, of course, one individual was involved.

"How long before we can expect students to return to the dormitories?" He questioned.

He was already compiling a list of students he would be required to interview. The students whose rooms flanked the suite in question must at some point be interviewed and perhaps even a sampling of their memories must be made. It was possible they might be affected by implanted suggestions. Catherine Bloom carried false memories and he was not foolish enough to think the perpetrator would stop at interfering with the mind of the security agent and not with the minds of students.

Otto sighed and shook his head, pressing the button for the third floor and relaxing back against the wall.

"None of the students will be returning to the building today. Considering the damage done I had no option other than to order an evacuation from the building. When the extent of the damage became apparent we needed to turn the water off and we cannot have students in the building without water."

Chang exchanged a significant glance with Treize and both raised their estimation of the damages. Neither had marked Otto as a man who exaggerated and his comments thus far on the damage done to the suite were beginning to sound alarms in both men.

"I ordered them evacuated with the instruction they take with them one overnight bag of luggage and informed them we have burst pipes by way of an explanation. It hardly justifies the problem but it is the literal truth, I suppose. Credibility will be easy enough given the students from 220 were rained on and the students on either side of the crime scene know something was going on. The carpets were wet in the hallway in front of the suite and with the way news travels in this place, the entire university will know in the space of another half hour."

The plumbing contractors vans in the car park would also grant credibility to the excuse, Treize decided. Such evidence should turn any suspicion from something more untoward. He supposed someone would come up with the idea of a disgruntled student performing an act of vandalism that might have gotten out of hand. When he questioned the students adjacent to and below the suite that rumor might rise quickly.

"Morning classes have unavoidably been disrupted for the majority of the student body while we deal with the problem of seeing the students fed. I believe the cafeteria is not the place to be at the moment, if you actually want breakfast. The largest problem will be adequately housing the displaced students from this dormitory. You will have no problem with students running around in the building interrupting your investigations. It will be at least two days and possibly as much as a week before we can turn the water back on."

//Breakfast. That would have been nice. I'll have to arrange something to baluster my calorie intake to compensate for any probes I might need to perform in the course of the investigation this morning.//

The door rolled aside and Otto stepped out into the third floor, motioning the investigators to join him and then proceeded to guide them through the hallways to the suite. Treize took the opportunity to consider the implications if what Otto suggested might not be exaggerated.

Nothing leaked through the man's shields offering him a glimpse of the thoughts going on in that curly-haired head. Chang looked more curious than alarmed and flicked his gaze at Otto and then to Treize and Treize shook his head. No, he was not inclined to probe the Security Chief at this time, though he might be so inclined to peek at a later time.

The carpet squelched underfoot as they approached the suite, though on their approach angle it was not possible to see within the suite until they practically stood in the open doorway. The door was ajar and Chang frowned at the carpet underfoot and added a few thousand liters of water to his estimate of how much might have leaked before the internal rain storm was noted downstairs.

They were still a number of steps away from the door when Treize's attention was caught by the wreckage of what once had been a class four security lock. The device looked to have been the recipient of a massive impact by a heavy blunt object. A sledgehammer, as Otto had suggested, might have caused such damage. Such a blow should have woken at least one if not more of the students in the suites in the immediate vicinity and Treize exchanged a significant glance with Chang.

The door looked to have been the recipient of further sledgehammer-style attacks about the lock and door handle. Repeated blows had broken the seal and impact dents had cracks radiating outward from the center of impact. No small feat considering the door was a particularly solid specimen.

"That's nothing compared to inside." Otto commented and leaned forward a little to push the door open, placing his hand on the wood to stop it from swinging immediately shut once again.

Treize stared at the room beyond with widening eyes and managed to maintain decorum by catching his jaw before it dropped open in abject surprise. His partner whistled softly and stared, raising a hand to try to push the door open further.

t.b.c.

Karina Robertson 2006

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Treize Kushrenada : Level 10 Sending/Receiving Telepath Receiving and Projecting Empath at Level 10. Prime rated. Agency Operative contracted term of 5 years with 2 years remaining. [25yrs of age Training facility: Psychic Institute Munich Division.

Commander Anne Une: Level 8 Telekinetic. Operations Commander of The Agency. Contracted term of 10 years with 7 years remaining. Berlin Division. [22 yrs old.

Chang Wu Fei: Level 9 Telekinetic Receiving Telepath Level 5. Agency Operative contracted term of 10 years with 8 years remaining[22yrs of age Training facility:Psychic Institute Luxemburg Division.

Heinrich Otto: Tsuberov University Security Chief. No Psionic talent. Staff Member at Tsuberov for five years. Fitted with a Neural shield implant against telepathic intrusion. Former employment, Sanc Imperial Guard. [35 years of age.


	11. Chapter 11

By special request, Happy Birthday Anne Mari. I do hope it is after midnight there and I got the right time to have this arrive on your birthday. Hope your birthday is a good one.

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Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 11/??

//…// Thoughts

_Italics _Empathic Impression translated from emotion into symbolic words.

Chapter Eleven

Dissatisfied with the view of the destruction afforded by the partially opened door, Wu Fei reached forward to gently push against the door, scowling when it refused to move. The opening would afford barely sufficient room for him to slide his slim body through the gap and for someone of the size of Treize and Otto there would be a very tight squeeze indeed. Annoyed at the limits of the view he pushed more firmly against the door and felt the light touch of the big man beside him.

"No use, I'm afraid. That is as far as we could move it this morning. Until the forensic team has concluded their work we have to be content with this. " Otto murmured.

Chang grunted softly, scowling at the offending portal. From what he could see of the room from this angle he was not overly eager to see exactly what was blocking the door. He suspected they were fortunate not to have had to remove the door entirely to gain access to the suite.

Treize had taken one look at the tangled mass of debris visible through the gap and turned his attention to the broken lock and damage done to the door. In his view the room itself could wait as the door and lock presented a more accessible target and enough of a puzzle to keep them occupied. To be certain his eyes had opened wide at first glance into the suite, but the more accessible damage drew his attention quickly enough and gave him cause to be both curious and concerned.

With the case progressing as it was he was concerned with what they might find themselves facing in the long term. The scale of the damage beyond the door was warning enough if the altered memories of the Housekeeper had not been sufficient to alert him to the unusual.

He knelt to peer more closely at the damaged lock and examine the impact site. The device appeared to have been subjected to repeated, almost frenzied attacks by a sizeable blunt instrument. He was fairly certain the initial blow would have taken out the lock, but the amount of damage suggested the perpetrator had not been content with merely unlocking the door. There was the appearance of wanton destruction, particularly if you took into account the damage to the door and suite.

He focused his attention on the wreckage, seeking some vestige of the tool used to suggest a material item had been used to produce such damage. He was in no way relieved to fail to detect traces of metal, wood or plastic, in fact it alarmed him to think this amount of destruction was kinetic in nature. Forensics might still find microscopic elements of a tool used in the attack and he found himself hoping such would be the case.

The frenzied nature of the destruction thus far viewed suggested an unstable and very powerful psychic individual.

While Chang squeezed his slender frame into the gap and peered into the wreckage of the room, Treize turned his attention to the door. This too appeared to be the recipient of a frenzied assault. It had received a number of substantial blows by what appeared to be a sizeable blunt faced instrument and once again there was no remnant of the weapon to give a clue as to its identity. No sliver left to suggest a mundane means of destruction had been utilized. The impact sites also disturbed him in that there was no deeper angle to the indentations marking one side of a tool had hit with greater force than another, as he would have expected. The indentations appeared to be perfectly uniform and that to him suggested telekinetic talent.

"Chang." His tone demanded the attention of his partner and he motioned, first to the lock and then to the door, demanding they attend to business. "Kinetics?"

Wu Fei pulled his attention away from the debris and the water lapping at his feet with an effort. He was fascinated with the sheer volume of damage in the visible section of the room and backed out of the doorway reluctantly. He would have liked to force his way into the suite to gain a better viewing and examine in detail the debris, to determine the extent of the force required to wreck such havoc. Such would have to wait, he knew, until the forensic team had concluded their work.

Treize was right to concentrate on what they could access and as his partner shifted to give him room he peered at the remnants of what had been a very advanced and expensive lock.

His specialty was kinetic energy and while he was not sufficiently powerful to be ranked a Prime talent he was an accredited Level 9, with four points toward a Prime ranking. That sensitivity and strength made him one of the sixty highest rated kinetic talents on Earth at the present time and the Agencies highest rated kinetic agent. He was expected to develop added stability as he matured, which might improve his ratings by two or three points on the scale and considering his tender years he was expected to develop his talent a little more as he matured and gained experience. Age and continued use of kinetic talent often rounded the talent and every year he was tested for advanced development.

His training had been meticulous and undertaken beneath the control of one of the best team of kinetic instructors in the ESUN. While training to use his ability to its fullest extent he had also been instructed in how to recognize the signs of kinetic use in others about him. That training also extended to determining the physical evidence of kinetic use on the material world surrounding him.

He was quick to note the even depressions in the door; the perfect circles with cracks radiating from them as the wood fibers had parted under stress. The mashed nature of much of the wiring and flattened impact zone surrounding the lock were all evidence of what had taken place. He was not surprised to note the absence of any foreign material which might have hinted at the weapon used and he doubted any microscopic particles of such would be detected by forensics.

Treize was kinetically dead, his brains higher functions tuned into telepathy and empathic abilities. He had, however, been trained to detect basic signs of kinetic use and Wu Fei was not about to deny the use of kinetic energy. It was glaringly obvious to anyone who had any real knowledge of the talent what had occurred here.

Kinetics dealt with the material world. Solid dirty honest reality. He tended to think of kinetic abilities as earthy in nature, though he knew others disagreed. He considered kinetics Earth based and telepathic and empathic talent air based. Why he thought in those terms he had never been able to explain to his trainers satisfaction. It was simply how he equated his personal views of the minds abilities.

This debris suggested a kinetic talent with a dangerous bent toward hysterics expressed with a violence that, if focused on a body, would certainly kill. He was sure it had already claimed one victim.

He peered at the door for a few minutes, studying the dents and broken facing intently and finally straightened, glancing toward the opening and the suite beyond.

"Yes. I would say there is little doubt the damage was kinetically based. I think it highly doubtful forensics will find metal or wood fragments to later match up to an implement. These blows are too clean, too even to be anything other than kinetic force. Given the possibility the killer is a suspected kinetic I would say we have a serious problem on our hands."

A dull thud and violent spate of swearing drew all eyes toward the gap in the door and after a moment Yuy stalked into view, picking his way across the visible debris. His clean suit was wet and dirt streaked and he looked far from happy, limping slightly as he worked his way over a knot work of pipes. The sound of dripping water could be clearly heard in the hallway and Yuy seemed far from happy, shaking water from his gloved hands.

From the doorway looking over Chang's head Treize watched as Heero eased his way through the convoluted piping and the remnants of the breakfast bar. To his sensitized abilities frenzied rage seemed to emanate from the room and he was eager to access the suite and sense it properly. The previous day the suite had been almost void of any emotional content, the only lingering emotions being from the investigation team. Now even from the doorway he could feel something of the emotions within the room and it was far from pleasant. Frenzied was becoming an apt description for the events.

Uncontrolled emotion might give him an insight into the killer and offer them some valuable information. In a best case scenario it might even give them an identity. He could only wait his chance to determine the emotional state and thought processes of the trespasser.

There was always the possibility, slight though it seemed to him, whoever had performed this attack on the suite was not the same body that had interfered with the mind of Catherine Bloom.

Yuy paused in front of the doorway and nodded in greeting, making no attempt to force his frame through the gap. He glanced behind him and after a moment sighed and faced the three men, motioning behind him at the rubble.

"Every room took the same damage. The walls have been battered; pipes ripped through them and twisted like pretzels. The beds have been broken apart and scattered across the rooms. There is not one piece of intact furniture in the suite. Everything seems to have been systematically smashed. The refrigerator is even protruding from the bathroom wall. A great deal of anger was released. Our perpetrator has control issues."

Treize frowned at the list of damages and the constant drip of water underscored every word. Anger was not exactly what he would have called what he was sensing from the suite. Chang eyed the ESUN agent for a long moment and inclined his head toward the room.

"You say the refrigerator has been thrown into a wall?"

"More like it was picked up and punched through the wall. A good half of it is in the bathroom at around head height. Every bit of plumbing looks to have been torn through the walls and the pipes deliberately smashed. Some make pretzels look straight."

"And through it all no one in the suites on either side heard anything." Treize murmured considering the possibilities this presented.

There was a moment of silence as each of the men considered the shear volume of noise required to generate destruction on such a grand scale.

"The rooms, while not exactly sound proofed, are very well insulated for reasons of privacy. It is also considered necessary to give the students a quiet atmosphere in which to study." Otto offered.

"It was not soundproof for long." Yuy responded. "No effort was spared to keep the walls intact."

"Forensics?" Chang looked expectantly at Yuy, for the moment willing to accept they needed to wait before they could perform their own investigation into the incident.

Heero glanced over his shoulder to watch the small group of men and women in their clean suits engaged in taking photographs and picking through the debris in search of clues. The ESUN Security Agency had sent the best on this case and he was not inclined to hurry them up. They would not take kindly to anyone, least of all a 'bunch of tea leaf readers' wanting dibs on their crime scene. The rivalry between the forensic sciences and the psychics went back a long way and while most professionals tolerated and even respected the other group, you occasionally found individuals who were less than tolerant.

"They have asked for another half hour at least. With all the water damage I'm not sure how much they will find to be of assistance. If there is something there the lab will find it."

Chang nodded knowing how thorough such a team would be. "I will need to examine the damage, though at this stage I firmly believe it to be kinetic based. I may be able to determine the strength of the perpetrator, or perpetrators. It is possible there was more than one."

Otto scowled and sighed. "One insane psychic is bad enough."

"More than one would be a blessing." Treize murmured, ignoring the Security Chiefs scowl. "More than one person being responsible for this kind of wanton destruction would place a more normal scale on the talents involved in the case."

Yuy scowled, not knowing whether to wish for one supercharged psychic nut case or two lesser beings. "Whatever. I need to return to work."

Treize motioned toward the room beyond the door before the agent could turn away. "When your team is finished I will require a few minutes alone in the suite. This kind of damage is only possible when the subject is in a rage and from the little I have viewed I would suggest more of a frenzy. That intensity of emotion would leave multi level impressions in the room I should investigate. I may be able to pick up on something that could clarify his, her or its identity."

"I hate it when you say that." Chang grumbled. "He or she is sufficient, thank you, without calling to mind little green men from Mars."

"Hey, no one has proven Aliens do not exist." Treize flashed him a wide grin, enjoying the opportunity to annoy his partner.

"I'll see you have next access to the room." Heero turned and stepped over a length of pipe. "I'll also have the doorway cleared to make access easier."

"That would be much appreciated." Treize eyed the gap, not overly eager to force his body through. "Try to keep the emotional level down in there, please. It will be easier to go after our target if I don't have to wade through unnecessary emotions and impressions to tap into what we actually need."

A grunt was the only response and Yuy wandered back into the room, taking particular care where he placed his booted feet. Otto sighed and stepped away from the door, glancing to either side of the hallway and seeing no one in evidence turned to the investigators lingering by the doorway.

"Would either of you gentlemen care for some coffee?"

Wu Fei grunted softly by way of agreement and Treize was only too happy to follow Otto back through the building and out into the grounds. Their exit from the dormitory building was accomplished in thoughtful silence, none of the group seeming inclined to comment. The walk across the lawn toward the security building gave him time to admire the scenery and take note of the clusters of students now moving around the area.

Otto nodded amiably to each group they passed and Treize could feel the curiosity of the students as they noted the Chiefs companions. He detected no attempt to psychically probe Otto, Chang or himself in an attempt to appease curiosity and he had honestly expected at least one attempt from some curious body. A number of the students were telepaths, he had no trouble identifying them but none seemed inclined to initiate contact. It appeared Tsuberov stressed restraint to its students and they listened.

The student who attracted more than a quick glance from him was the one who subjected he and Chang to a particularly hard eyed stare before he acknowledged Otto's pointed glare and beat a hasty retreat. The distinctive chestnut braid confirmed his identity, the rope of hair swinging from side to side across his tight backside as he hurried past. Treize had no trouble identifying the curiosity and suspicion emanating from Duo Maxwell and decided not to draw Otto's attention to the youth. He rather suspected there was a history between Otto and Maxwell. The Sweeper prodigy struck him as a bit of a prankster.

In the sanctuary of the security building Otto was quick to lead them to his office and offer them seats. A coffee machine stood on a credenza to one side of the room, with coffee already brewed and waiting. The Chief was quick to pour the drinks and settle in his seat behind his desk. Through the ritual of pouring and accepting the cups none of them seemed inclined to speak and it was not until they all had tasted their coffee that Otto chose to begin.

//Ah, real coffee. A decent blend too. // Treize sipped a second time, appreciating the robust flavour.

Otto gave every appearance of a man who had just received a life line with the first sip of the brew. Considering the hour of the call out it was possible the man had not had time for coffee on waking. He may not even have eaten and that reminded Treize he had not exactly engaged in the usual breakfast his work schedule demanded he consume. He would have to do something about that soon.

"What do you think?" Otto questioned, both hands wrapped around the mug.

"I think we may have a problem." Chang sighed.

"I think there is little doubt whoever was in the suite has a hair trigger temper and something less than a stable mind." Treize mused. ""For the sake of argument, let us call the intruder He. I believe it fairly safe to assume He was not amused to find the suite abandoned. Any high talent psychic has the potential to lose control in a spectacular fashion. That is not saying we are all prone to hysterics and bouts of screaming rage."

"We are not generally so inclined but the consensus is, and has been for some time, that the higher the psionic abilities a person has, the greater danger there is of a loss of control should personal stress levels elevate above safety margins." Chang sipped at his mug and considered the dark liquid. "This individual appears to be dangerous."

Otto scowled and studied the agent for a long moment. "You are saying we have a psychotic psychic running around, who is getting frustrated and progressively more dangerous."

//A fair assessment and it is only the truth. I will know more after I sense the room. If we are fortunate I should be able to determine which of the students the target is.// Treize mused.

"Yes." Chang agreed. "We thought there might be the possibility Mr. Winner has acquired a secret admirer. A Stalker. It is possible the John Doe in the refrigerator might have disturbed the Stalker preparing to leave a welcome home gift for Winner. That scenario is gaining more credibility as far as I am concerned. Who John Doe is and what he was doing in the suite we need to determine. The two individuals we know are involved, the corpse and the stalker, neither of whom had any right to be in the suite, need to be identified. We need to determine if there is a link between the two, or if it was merely an unhappy chance first meeting."

"I am worried." Trieze straightened in his chair, turning the mug of coffee slowly in his long fingers. "We are hoping there is a third party involved in this to account for the psychic traces we have thus far detected. We have clear evidence of a kinetic talent of near, if not, Prime level and we have the telepathic talent which I assure you must be a Prime level to account for the work done on Ms Bloom. It may well be the Stalker is psychotic and it is possible the individual is riding a psychic high. The loss of conscious control of His facilities and psychic talent potentially would cause surging in the talent. These surges would usurp their normal control. In this scenario Ms Bloom should be a vegetable, but obviously she is not."

Otto shrugged. "I might work in a prestigious psychic training ground, but I don't profess to understand the abilities."

"One thing that might be of aid to us is the cost of such a use of talent. It would take a great deal of energy to cause the extensive damage to the suite. Given what I know of the use of kinetic energy I would think our intruder should be exhausted and might possibly behave as though they had not eaten for days."

"In regards to the possibility of the excessive eating of high calorie foodstuffs, that would apply to a good half the student body on any given day at Tsuberov." Otto muttered. "Some of the training these students undergo, especially the advanced students, pushes them to extremes. Their calorie intake is adjusted accordingly, but if we went to the cafeteria now we would find at least three or four stuffing food into them as quickly as humanly possible and it is only early in the day."

"It is a starting point." Wu Fei returned.

"I'm not denying that, or inclined to ignore the possibility." Otto assured the agent. "I can run a check in the cafeteria on who is eating what and cross checking against their training schedules, but it may not lead us anywhere."

Treize nodded content with that. Given the nature of Tsuberov excellence was expected of its student body and the students, while being pampered in lifestyle, would be expected to work for the privileges they received.

"On the few occasions I have overextend my kinetic talent, I am prone to experiencing severe migraines. Many psi's, not just kinetics, are also noted to suffer for their exertions."

Otto nodded, considering Wu Fei for a long moment. "I can check with the nursing staff and see if anyone has been asking for pain killers, or something more targeted toward overuse of psychic ability. Anyone using drugs needs a trainer's permission and prescription from the medical staff. It could be the result of deep level work, though at this early hour of the day there should be little of that type of study taking place. It may provide us with something though."

"To effect the damage I saw in the suite would have required a high level talent. I will need a list of all kinetics at Tsuberov. Students and staff, everyone with kinetic abilities at and above level six. Unless you have someone entering the grounds during the night on a regular basis, the perpetrator of the vandalism must be resident in the university complex." Chang set aside his empty cup on the desk, frowning as he pursued the possibilities.

"As much as I hate to agree with you, I must. With the security arrangements in place it should be next to impossible for an outsider to access the grounds, particularly at night. I will need to go through the Dean to access the sealed records of the students for you to view. The staff records I can hand over with relative impunity, but the students are protected by policy."

"Of course." Treize smiled slightly. "I am certain the Dean will see the difficulties and the lengths we will need to go to in our efforts to identify the perpetrator. If necessary I have little doubt Yuy could have a writ demanding the information is made available to the ESUN Security Agency prepared in an hour. They have a tendency to be blunt and to the point, while I would prefer to handle this matter more discreetly."

"Tsuberov places high importance on maintaining the integrity and privacy of the students records, but I am certain the Dean will see the sense in discretion. Certain other Masters at the University would not be so understanding, but Hargraves I have found to be sensible to date."

"Other than Winner, who of the students would have the highest profile at the University?" Treize questioned.

Otto sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "The overall student body, or in Winners year?"

"Overall."

"Well, there are a number of students who attract a great deal of attention. We have the ESUN President's grandson and a granddaughter here at the present time. There is the son of the President of UNESCO and this year saw the arrival of Princess Relena of Sanc. The University is full of children and grandchildren of the rich, famous and influential. It is the training ground for the future leaders of tomorrow."

"You were the Universities liaison with the security contingent for the Princess?" Chang queried.

"I was a member of the Sanc Royal Guard at one time and my presence here is one of the reasons Tsuberov was chosen for the Princesses training. King Stephan felt he could trust me to arrange adequate security for the Crown Princess. She arrived quite discreetly at the beginning of the year and her attendance here was requested to be low key. I believe the Sanc Univeristy was the preferred option, however the Princess expressed a desire to go elsewhere and made sufficient case to win approval from her father, if not the Parliament."

"Why did you leave Sanc?" Treize was studying the photograph on the wall showing Otto in the uniform of the Royal Guard with a group of colleagues.

"Marriage problems." Otto sighed and winced, waving aside the topic with a grimace. "Irreconcilable differences of opinion. Princess Relena is a full function telepath, however her range is limited and her strength lies in her ability as a Suggestor. She will be an ideal head of state on the death of her father, in that her talent for Suggestion, while within a limited range of telepathy, is a high level in itself. The King is the same, a low level send and receive telepath, with a select function for manipulating and influencing the emotions of others. The King is determined she learn control and the appropriate etiquette required to have others comfortable with her and her talent."

// She can send and receive telepathic impulses along a narrow band and her range would be limited. A useful talent in a diplomat. It is no wonder King Peacecraft is requested to chair so many diplomatic functions.// Treize turned his attention from the photograph to the flesh and blood man seated before him. "I am concerned with the Stalkers interest in other high profile students if they associate socially with Winner. Do any of the students interact regularly, or perhaps even intimately, with Winner?"

"At Tsuberov we attempt to have the students socially interact regularly. They will be dealing with each other out in the real world and it is expected they learn to associate with various races and cultures and work closely with them whilst here. I can not say I have noticed any particular interaction between any of the high profile students, although I believe Winner has been known to associate with one of the Barton cousins on a regular basis. No more so that with others of their mutual background I would think. Certainly no one as frequently as he is noted with his dorm mates."

"Then we may not have a problem if he is not noted to be with one group more than any other." Treize looked his relief. //A Barton? I wonder which of the cousins that might be. // "An unstable psychic is not to be toyed with and we must cover all possibilities."

Chang stood and ran a hand through his hair, absently rubbing at a stiff muscle in his neck. He made his way to the window and found himself looking out into a contained courtyard garden. The shaded lawn was set with a table and chairs and a Security Officer of the University was seated having a cup of what he presumed to be coffee and reading a file beneath the shade of a tight cluster of small trees.

"I did not expect to be woken to the news there had been more trouble in the suite. There was no disturbance at Winners new room?"

"That was the first thing I checked when I realized what had happened in the suite. There has been no indication the security was tested and I have already turned over the security footage to Yuy's people for analysis."

"I believe it would be fairly safe to assume our Intruder was upset his target was not where he expected him to be." Treize glanced at his watch and stood, nodding to Otto. "If you will excuse us, I would think the forensic team would have finished their investigations by now."

"Of course." Otto considered his empty mug and snapped to his feet. "I will see about gathering the information you requested. Most of it should be available to you before the day is out."

Wu Fei and Treize made their way out of the security building and across the lawns to the accommodation block in silence. Both were occupied with considering the new turn of events and the possibilities complicating the investigation. Neither partner was comfortable with the idea they might be dealing with a renegade psychic who was potentially insane. Insanity and high psychic talent was not a good combination, especially if the person involved was criminally insane. A person on the cusp of insanity would be even worse, as the slightest error on their part might push the individual irrevocably over the edge, losing a viable high talent from society.

"I think it would be better if Winner was moved off the university grounds." Chang glanced at Treize. "This could become very dangerous very quickly."

"It could." Treize agreed. "I concur and we can suggest that measure be taken in the interests of security. Considering the events overnight we may not need to request it, as they will need to acquire suitable accommodations for the entire student contingent who were assigned to the dorm building. Until the water is restored to the rooms the building is considered unsuitable for human habitation and I do not believe the University has extra dormitories available capable of housing the entire student compliment now displaced. We need to determine what they intend to do with the students for the next few days and perchance suggest Winner and his dorm mates be housed off campus."

"From the extent of the damage I saw in the suite, I doubt they will have the water restored in two days. Certainly the suite will require considerable restructuring."

Yuy was waiting for them, standing before the closed door with the hood of the clean suit thrown back and he was reviewing notes, a clipboard clutched in one still gloved hand. He nodded agreeably on noticing their approach and inclined his head to the suite.

"All clear for you to go to work."

Chang nodded, a short sharp jerk of his head, not inclined to the idea he might have needed to wait longer. "How much did forensics get?"

"Not a great deal, I think and some of it will likely prove to have nothing to do with the incident. There were some hairs found, but I believe they will be proven to belong to the former occupants of the suite and the security staff who investigated the disturbance." He glanced over his shoulder at the suit and shrugged. "The water damage is extensive and may have contaminated any evidence beyond use in a court of law. We shall have to wait and see what their final assessment is."

Treize moved up beside Yuy, eager to get into the suite and sense the psychic impressions. "If you don't mind, Fei, I'll sense the room first before you look for kinetic evidence."

Chang nodded. "I will remain here and ensure you are not disturbed."

Yuy reached to push the door open and stepped out of the way, allowing Treize to enter the disaster zone and turned his attention to Chang. The two fell to discussing the evidence the forensic team had found and must determine if it alluded to the crime or not.

Treize brushed past Yuy and entered the room, beginning to regulate his breathing and manipulate his shields as he did so. He needed to be careful not to allow preconceived ideas and supposition to influence his investigation and he needed to prepare his mental state accordingly. His reactions to the damage must be sorted and safely tucked away out of his conscious mind, to provide an accurate and responsive scan be made. When he opened his awareness to the psychic atmosphere he wanted to be certain to miss not one nuance of left over emotion or thought.

Formerly the living area and kitchen facilities had been separated by a solid breakfast bar. Treize looked on in awe as he stepped over copper pipes ripped from the kitchen wall and now twisted over the wreckage of the breakfast bar. Blue eyes widened as he took the time to examine the debris strewn room, noting not a single kitchen cupboard could claim a door and said doors appeared to now fill the role of match sticks and kindling for a fire.

The pipes, water and drainage, had been ripped from the walls and he could only presume the taps had been the starting point for that particular piece of destruction. A quick glance around failed to turn up a single tap amid the debris and the sink was leaning precariously against what must once have been the lounge and now was nothing more than a soggy mass of material and stuffing. He recognized some of the support straps for the seat dangling from the overhead lighting, the bulb shattered in its socket.

//How did no one hear anything?//

He could see from the debris scattered about how well insulated the walls of the suite had been, the insulating material now broken and scattered and resembling nothing more than soggy blue cardboard.

//Someone should have heard this.//

The degree of destruction fairly boggled the mind and he picked his way carefully over broken furnishings, shattered china and ornaments thrown about the suite. The shredded remnants of the artwork formerly decorating the wall shattered glass and even shredded strips of the carpet made footing treacherous. He paused to admire the base of the refrigerator protruding from the bathroom wall and considered the sheer force required to effect such positioning.

He had assumed Yuy was exaggerating when he claimed the refrigerator was half way into the bathroom, but it appeared not. Treize could not resist entering the bathroom only to shake his head at the further destruction. Aside from the novelty of the refrigerator decorating one wall, the remaining walls in the room had been ripped open and the plumbing was driven through the wall into what was formerly Duo Maxwell's bedroom. Shattered tile shards crunched underfoot and the bath was showing dents as unmistakable in form as the damage done to the door and lock.

//If nothing else the refrigerator impacting on the wall had to make enough noise to wake the dead.// He examined the cracks in the wall leading from the impact point and ran a hand through his hair. //The damn thing was shoved through with a lot of force.//

He paused to look into each of the bedrooms and survey the wanton destruction and determined there seemed to be no definable pattern to the debris. Everything appeared to have been considered a target for needless violence. Nothing was left of the beds and the wardrobes were so much kindling strewn about the room. Shelving units had been splintered and sections protruded from the walls and one hung from the ceiling like a demented chandelier. Water dripped from everything and the curtaining was shredded as though someone had taken a knife to it. Each room was the same, an equal measure of destruction having been performed and with his survey complete he turned his attention to his task.

This investigation was not going to be an easy case, of that he was convinced and he could only wish it had fallen to another investigation team. The memory of pale hair shimmering in the setting sun brought that train of thought up short and he grimaced in disgust. He should have more sense than to play the What If and If Only game, especially in the middle of an active investigation.

Taking a deep breath he considered the overall layout and size of the suite and picked his position with care, determining the space before the bedroom doors to be near the centre of the suite. Maxwell's room was a few steps to his rear and Winners three paces to his fore, with Marquise doorway at his back and the shattered living area open before him. While not exactly the centre of the suite the position was close enough to meet his requirement.

Ignoring the dripping of water and the soggy splat of the occasional piece of plaster falling from the ceiling and walls, he carefully relaxed his body, taking a few composing breaths. Trusting Chang to see him undisturbed Treize centered his perceptions and with three carefully measured, progressively deeper breaths; sank his awareness into the first stages of his working mode.

He descended into the sanctity of his own mind, settling his awareness within a calm pool. Here was tranquility, untouched by influences beyond his instigation. This place was perceived as tranquil, soothing and warm. A fourth breath, slow and deep firmed his place within the warmth and he permitted himself a brief survey of his impressions of the events. He used the moment as a lead in to opening his awareness to the unseen but lingering remnants of human presence.

Within this pool of calm he considered the curiosities and problems arising from the situation. Careful not to centre his focus on any one item of note, he sought instead an overall feeling of the bigger picture. It was not the invasion and rape of a woman's mind, or the force required to push a refrigerator through a wall. It was not dismembered flowers or a heart stopped so abruptly, or the discarding of a body. It was the entire he sought to capture in a snapshot of order from chaos, to grasp in a millisecond the impression of the whole.

He was missing something. He could not frown in this awareness, but if it had been possible he would have. There was something missing from the snapshot, some vital element and he likened it to pieces missing from a jigsaw puzzle. Perhaps one piece was a close match and in the wrong place throwing out all other pieces after its placement and necessitating the deconstruction of the puzzle.

//The pieces do not fit. The pattern is wrong.//

Contemplation within this quiet cocoon where only he and his own impressions existed could not be continued. He was aware of the passage of time in this level of consciousness and chose not to linger over misaligned pieces. As he continued his investigation he would add additional pieces to the ill fitted puzzle. There would be time enough for a deeper examination when he returned to his apartment and could tear apart the puzzle at leisure. With the puzzle pieces set out neatly in his mind he sealed them away, cleared his perceptions and taking another measured breath descended to a deeper level of consciousness.

It was from this deeper level of awareness that he intended to work on this occasion. Deeper than the level he had used against the block in Ms Blooms memories. He already knew the perpetrator had power and a certain measure of finesse else Ms Bloom would not be a functioning adult female. It took psychic strength and a delicate touch to effect such alterations in a person's memory and the destruction of the suite was another display of power. Raw strength was obvious in the wreckage of the room and he had easily enough sensed the anger which had birthed the destruction on the surface level of his awareness.

He needed to go below the public anger of the mind and seek for a deeper understanding. To accomplish this he needed to go past the rage to any lingering levels of awareness that might have survived the raw primal emotion filling the suite. The earlier wiping of the suite's psychic residue would be an aid in this endeavour, as he would not be contending with sorting years of built up residue. He need only siphon off the newer residue left by the investigating forensic team and security personnel and the remainder must be from the source of this storm of violence.

Settling himself within the stable comforting cocoon he had created he extended his perceptions beyond his safety zone and cautiously lowered his barriers. He stripped away the surface barrier shielding his mind, folding it neatly aside, being careful to maintain the control to thrust the shield into place if he felt the level of emotion endangered him.

_Rage._

Pure primal rage swept through his awareness. Underlying the fiery fury he caught the impression of a long standing grim anger.

//Interesting. Not what I expected to find.//

He considered the sub level, disregarding the rage for the moment to feel his way through the discontent. He would need to go deeper to determine the elements involved to make up this state of mind. There was an old quality to it, matured and nursed, barely leashed for some time. The anger had been smoldering, perhaps not even realized by the one who felt it until some key trigger point had been reached.

Surrounding this smoldering core of emotion, rippling and flaring like the edges of a forest fire into volatile dry growth and rising in columns of heated fury reminiscent of majestic trees in a destructive storm of flame. This was the storm of rage breaking free of its confines beneath the influence of unmistakable betrayal.

_Betrayal._

Pausing in his investigation of the core beneath the rage, Treize tasted the texture and flavor of the betrayal. Of all the emotions he might have expected to find within the rage he had not expected to find this coiled sense of betrayal. He detected hints of expectation, excitement and hunger underlying the stronger emotion. Almost a quivering of the three emotions as one would expect a child to quiver in excitement at a long awaited birthday or Christmas.

//It is almost the way Mariemaia felt at her last birthday. The same quivering excitement, the edge of feared disappointment, but the expectation of the day being everything she wanted it to be.//

Betrayal beneath the rage and the trigger that had turned one into the other? He sought within the core of the betrayal for some lingering residue of thought or awareness, convinced he would find it. Such would the spark be between the two it must linger in elements of both emotions.

_HE was not there._

There, that was the trigger point. The crushing instant of disappointment at the realization the suite was empty and no indication of personal effects remained of the occupants who should have been resident here.

He was not there. From that instant of knowledge the expectation and excitement had turned to betrayal and thence to rage.

_Rip and destroy._

Treize gave himself a moment to steady his perceptions against the spike of emotion. He needed control now above all times, he was coming close to the centre, to reaching through to what he was sure would be a breakthrough.

_Take out the anguish of betrayal on the world. HE was not there_.

The rage wavering with the sense of abandonment. The disbelief and sense of displacement warping perceptions, weakening already weakened barriers, beginning to feed back, stoking the fire.

_This was HIS place and HE must be present, else there was no meaning to the existence of the world where in HE must occupy._

// Losing coherency fast in the upsurge of emotion, not making complete sense even this early in the stages leading to the release of anger. It still strikes me as being somewhat child like. There is almost innocence in the anger at the disruption to the expected order. HE should be present for the world to be as it should. This individual does not do well in the face of the unexpected. //

_HE who was made to be gazed upon and adored was not there for him to worship_.

Treize drew a shuddering breath and eased a veil of his shield into place, separating himself from the raw emotion. He resisted the urge to rise above the surging emotional wave and escape its drowning intensity. The rage battering against his shields in a surge like a tidal flow was near to over whelming already stressed shields and he needed distance. Just a few minutes to restore his psychic and physical balance were all he would need to function safely. He had no choice other than to take his time with this reading, else he chanced exposing himself to too much of the flow and might well go down into a sympathetic resonance. The last thing he or the university needed was a Prime level Telepathic Empath generating primal anger all over the psychic ether.

Only when he was assured he had settled his perceptions and firmed his barriers did he thin the shield and once again enter the surging tide. Carefully thinning the shield he stripped away layers of rage, sinking his awareness through the depths and seeking to extend his perceptions to the core of potential.

He knew the anger and the betrayal, but he sought now some awareness of the exact strength and extent of the talent of this curiously childlike terror he pursued. If this one ever lost control in a populated place they would have every telepath and empath with measurable ability unconscious in the first five seconds, the more powerful being the first to go down. He should be able to sense the extent of the psychic's talents; at the very least be able to define the type of talent of the individual.

He could detect within the maelstrom the unmistakable signature energy he associated with kinetic force. Partnered as he was with Chang he was more than familiar with a kinetic signature and he found it here, wrapped within the flaring eruptions of destructive rage. Mixed within the kinetic signature was the equally recognizable pattern he associated with Telepathy and perhaps a trace of Empathy.

//Odd. It is as though the empathic talent is subjugated beneath the other abilities. Overpowered, overwhelmed but not ignored, not unknown to the individual.//

It was there and perhaps it was only the strength of the rage that fed the kinetic ability to the point all else was smothered. This person, this killer was unmistakably a mind on the edge. The slightest touch could send this one teetering into insanity and beyond help.

//No apparent flavor of a clairvoyant at this level of awareness, that much is a blessing. Nothing of Healers sensitivity, but there is definitely the ability to influence the thoughts and emotions of others. A Suggestor then, the talent utilized to mold Ms Blooms memories. //

He should not have been able to glean so much from the residue in the suite and it worried him. The psychic would be easy to track if the worst happened and they plunged over the edge. He had the flavor of the mind now and he would know it anywhere. He would need to keep it always within his awareness and if by some chance he encountered an echo of thought or emotion, he would be able to trace the individual and positively identify the one mind out of a thousand others from which it originated.

_Abandonment_.

The sense of being abandoned was strong. He had expected HIM to be here, waiting for him.

_Expectation. Adoration of beauty._

//He had expected HIM to be here, waiting for him to feast his eyes upon. That is clear enough. There is something more though. Something else. //

_Aching need. Daring. Firm resolve. Touch. _

Within his minds talent Treize held himself still, waiting, extending more of himself into the sensitivity, searching, seeking for the breakthrough and the knowledge it would give him. He was close now and though he could feel the first signs he must pull out of the session he could linger just a little longer. He was close and if he put just a little more effort into it…

_Expectation. Dare to touch. _

Trigger point. The shattered dream with the absence of his object of adoration and Treize understood.

_He had made up his mind to touch the beauty of HIM. HE was beauty personified. HE made Adonis ugly._

So clear was the emotions they presented as very near true thought. It was not a lingering telepathic thought, but it came so close it frightened Treize. The intensity of the emotion was beyond anything he had previously encountered.

_ HE was to be looked upon with reverence. HE was to be admired from a distance, but just this once…_

//Dangerous. Very dangerous. // The source of the rage surrounded him, enclosed him, swept him up and thundered through his perceptions.

_ Wishful thought. Determination. Impression of pale. _

Treize shivered in reaction. Pale? Blonde hair, perhaps? Growing clearer, more like true thought with every passing millisecond.

_ He had determined he might touch a single stand of blonde hair. Expectation of silk in his fingers… the softest wonderful feel of it against his skin…_

Treize shuddered at the sudden rush of desire washing over him and thrust a filtering shield firmly into place.

There was nothing sexual… No, that was wrong. There was sexual content within the flood of desire Treize shared from this residue. The sympathetic symbiosis he had formed with the emotion left him in little doubt what the perpetrator had experienced as he had neared the bedrooms. He could almost count each step with the rise of awareness and expectation of what would be found and admired and adored.

This desire he shared was less a desire for sex than it was belief the purity of HIM was not to be tainted. Something as base and dirty as a need for sexual gratification did not figure in the fixation this person had with his target.

//He sees the need for his desire to be as pure as the object of his desire. //

That observation worried Treize. Should Winner have a relationship, sexual or otherwise with another person on the grounds of the university, it would be considered a threat to his purity. This unbalanced psyche was already dangerous and he was afraid the mind had already progressed past the point of saving. He could only hope he was wrong in that assessment.

_Expectation. Crushing disappointment. Quivering, unfathomable disappointment morphing into something else, something dark and dangerous and erupting into wrath. The need to strike out and punish. _

Treize was deep and knew he was too deep in this growing insanity. It was time to withdraw to his singular identity and regain the physical sheath. The need and the desire to escape the morass of second hand emotion could no longer be ignored. He wanted to soak himself in purifying boiling water; to wash away the debris of another's emotions and ground himself in the solid reality of his own awareness and personality.

//Expectation and desire to touch was experienced before the rage. It was savored, luxuriated in and desired above everything else. Expectation of seeing the beauty of HIM. //

Warm flush of expectation and with it the sense of movement. Discontent he read as being associated with the long absence from the University. Burning curiosity and a sense of being unsatisfied, but there was satisfaction He was near and He could be admired. Determination he sensed and equated it as the determination to protect, to offer safety to the object of his adoration.

For less than the space of a heartbeat every emotion, every iota that might be lingering thought mixed within the emotion froze. Arctic chill enfolded him and then disbelief flooded through his perception. Disbelief and the birth of flooding, overpowering rage.

With the upsurge of emotion Treize broke the contact, thrusting himself out of the coiled raging inferno. He slammed his shields between himself and the clawing anger, gasping breath into struggling lungs. He thrust his mind into the safety of training routines, running a gauntlet of exercises to settle his mind into his body once more. He felt putrid, drenched in sweat and filth and he was aching for something to drink. Something far stronger than the list of acceptable beverages his trainers had drummed into his head in younger days.

Treize shuddered, his arms wrapping about his body, offering himself something in the way of physical comfort. He blinked, staring at the door directly in front of him; half turning to see the door he stood in front of and thence confirmed his location by looking behind him at Maxwell's door. He had moved.

He stood a little to one side of his former position where he had faced the lounge and kitchen. Now he was half turned to face Winners doorway, a hand set firmly to the side of Marquise's door and his fingers were almost claws with the force of his grip. He needed something to concentrate on, to force his mind to work and he grasped madly for anything to fill his need.

Blonde hair. He had received the impression of pale silk. Pale blonde specifically. No long locks he could associate with Zechs Marquise and no darker gold highlight he could name the Winner heirs. Simply the impression he perceived as blonde.

He knew the expectation of touch had been savored and stoked and in the end the descent into madness had been triggered when open doors had led to empty rooms. The lack of personal effects more than the emptiness of the rooms had triggered the explosion of kinetic force and the blinding pain accompanying it.

Pain? Yes, there was in the exact moment of realization a fierce spike within the emotion he now could name as pain. The psychic had damaged something integral to his abilities in that single instant of rage.

//The medical supplies will need to be closely monitored.//

With the instant of consuming pain there was a flash of understanding shared with the rogue psychic he hunted. Damage had been done, perhaps irreversible damage. He would have to hunt the individual and he would have to take the killer down quickly. In his own mind he was certain it was already too late, but protocol and the need for psychics in this day and age would demand they try to capture and heal shattered sanity and retrain the individual for a productive life. He was doubtful they would succeed with this one.

//The core of the rage was their absence and it triggered the explosion of kinetic energy. All of this damage was done after the discovery… including the damage to the lock and the door. He entered silently and undetected and expectant of what he would find and he exited in rage and in pain, striking out at the door and lock on his way out. I did not detect the pain in the hallway, though I did not look deeply into the emotional residue before entering the suite.//

There was a final impression lingering within his awareness.

They had been gone when they should have been there, asleep. They should have been asleep, beautiful in their innocence and available to be viewed. Available to be admired and adored.

t.b.c.

Karina Robertson

—————————————

Treize Kushrenada : Level 10 Sending/Receiving Telepath Receiving and Projecting Empath at Level 10. Prime rated. Agency Operative contracted term of 5 years with 2 years remaining. [25yrs of age Training facility: Psychic Institute Munich Division.

Chang Wu Fei: Level 9 Telekinetic Receiving Telepath Level 5. Agency Operative contracted term of 10 years with 8 years remaining[22yrs of age Training facility:Psychic Institute Luxemburg Division.

Heero Yuy: ESUN Security Agency Elite Operative. Government sanctioned Genetic enhancements performed by Romefeller Genetic Laboratory, Tokyo for adult service as Security Enhanced Operative. No Psychic Talent. Genetic induced enhancements include enhanced Strength, Hearing, Speed and Olfactory senses. Assigned regularly to liaison with The Agency's psychic agents. [21 / 22 years old

Heinrich Otto: Tsuberov University Security Chief. No Psionic talent. Staff Member at Tsuberov for five years. Fitted with a Neural shield implant against telepathic intrusion. Former employment, Sanc Imperial Guard. [35 years of age.

Duo Maxwell: Psi Student , 3rd year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Level 8 Psychokinetic ability, projected level 9. Sending Telepath Level 5. Colony of Origin L2 Cluster [ 18 years of age Sweeper adoptee. Under pre contract agreement with Sweepers.


	12. Chapter 12

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 12/??

//…// Thoughts

Chapter Twelve

From the moment of waking Duo knew it would be a day he would remember.

It was not that he delighted in chaos so much as disruption from a set routine energized him, especially when no one could accuse him of having had a hand in the chaos. As a Sweeper he knew all too well the benefits of a routine and he knew how to apply himself to his duties; in the present case his duty to the Sweepers being his studies. The application of one's self to the maximum effort was a necessary part of life as a Sweeper. Sweepers also appreciated the unexpected and considered dealing effectively with any emergency a necessary skill for survival. In space one could not afford to be lulled by routine and must be prepared for any eventuality.

Duo considered the dormitory-wide alert resulting in the entire student compliment being woken and evacuated from the building such a challenge. The pounding on the door while it was still dark had roused him from a sound sleep and the somewhat lame excuse of plumbing problems had not gone far toward convincing him of the urgency of immediate action. Even noting a number of students milling about in the hallway with bags in hand had not stirred him to immediate action.

"Sorry for the alarm, gentlemen, but the dormitory is to be evacuated due to plumbing problems. Grab your tote bags, pack quickly for two days and assemble in front of the dorm please. Further instructions will be issued when everyone is accounted for."

The security agent had pounded on the door until he had stirred and opened the door to him which had not involved a particularly long period of time. He was a relatively light sleeper and while the guard's message was clear enough he was not fussed with rushing around preparing to leave the suite. In his personal assessment plumbing problems had never equated to a life threatening experience.

Watching the guard move on to the next suite down the hallway Duo scratched at his boxer clad butt and yawned, wondering why all the urgency. It was not as though a tidal wave of water was rushing down the hallway threatening to wash away the student body. Noting the increasing number of sleep-deprived students beginning to fill the hallway he slammed the door shut and considered retiring back to bed. While some of the students looked particularly amusing in their befuddled state he was not inclined to laugh at the present time. That would come later, when he found the culprit of the prank.

"I don't know what all the fuss is about. So we have a leaky pipe? Big deal."

He found Quatre watching him from the doorway to his bedroom, the blonde shaking his head and pressing a hand lightly over his heart. It was a gesture Duo recognized, a reaction to Quatre's empathy responding to outside stimulus.

"Quatre?"

"No one's laughing, Duo. They consider this rather more serious than a leaky pipe from what I was reading from the guard." Quatre stifled a yawn. "You had better wake Zechs."

"Aw man, you know it's just some dork-brained asshole putting one over on the staff."

Blue eyes shadowed and Quatre dropped his hand, shaking his head. With the door closed the suite's psychic shielding was now restored, no leakage of emotions or thoughts intruding to disturb his sensitivity.

"I don't think so. It is not that simple, I am afraid, and it feels genuine to me. He was concerned on a far more grand scale that a leaky pipe or two can account for."

"Aw, come on. The sun's not even up."

"Wake up Zechs."

The door to the third bedroom opened and the sleep-mussed young man who appeared in the doorway glared at his roommates. "I'm awake. What's going on?"

"Anyone would think we were on a ship and about to decompress from all this fuss. Fine, if you think it's legit." Duo shuffled past Quatre and waved a hand at the older man. "Some asshole is going to pay for playing a prank. Get dressed, pack for two days and we get our butts outside." Duo shrugged and entered his bedroom. "If I'm going to have to be awake at this hour of the day I may as well find out who is responsible and make their sorry arse pay for it."

By the time he was dressed he was wide awake and considering the early start to the day. If the teachers expected them to be at their best during classes later in the day they would need to provide alternative sleeping arrangements. Following the full day's travel to return to Earth sleep was considered precious and he was not a particularly forgiving individual when sleep-deprived. Generating his own pranks was one thing but being on the receiving end of pranks was another thing entirely. In his view there was an etiquette to these things which must be observed.

//I'm awake so I may as well enjoy it. I sure as hell will not be getting back to sleep again. Someone is going to find out you don't pull pranks that deprive me of sleep. I'll teach the sorry bugger when the appropriate time of day for foolery is.//

While a decent cup of coffee would have cheered him considerably he was bright-eyed and alert as he ushered his roommates out the door. Quatre had woken sufficiently to dress in something resembling his usual style during daylight hours but the older man had pulled on a well worn tracksuit and still looked half asleep.

"Duo."

"Yeah ?" He turned to Zechs who was glaring about him as they descended the steps and found a vacant position near the steps amid the milling students.

"Promise me you will find the culprit and strip the hide from him."

A positively feral grin dawned on the Sweeper's face and he practically purred. "Oh, they will know one is displeased."

"Good." Zechs glanced at the spot-lighted area and growled. "Couldn't they have waited until we had at least one decent night's sleep?"

Duo watched as the milling crowd grew until he was certain every student must have evacuated the building. Teaching staff were circulating amid the crowd and he was sure he had identified more than half of the teachers and quite a few members of the security staff. In light of the amount of security and staff he determined the damage done to be more than one or two pipes and suspected the prank was of a more malicious nature than he had assumed.

Whispers began to make their way around the groups of students covering everything from murder having been committed to a veritable flood sweeping through the upper floors of the dorm. He sniggered along with everyone else when some bright spark commented he had seen little green men dancing in the hallways.

The arrival of the Dean silenced the general grumbling and Duo watched as he consulted with Otto who appeared briefly and then vanished into the dorm. The Dean gathered his teaching staff about him and announced everyone should make their way to the cafeteria where explanations would be offered. Duo shuffled along muttering under his breath all the while and planning revenge on the moron who had dared to play such a prank and saw him evicted from his nice warm bed.

//Someone is going to pay.//

On reaching the cafeteria staff ushered the students to seats and requested they have patience, the Dean would be right along. It was rather gratifying that for once the timing was spot on and the Dean appeared as the last of the students were settled into seats.

"I must apologize for the disruption to your rest, ladies and gentlemen. Unfortunately circumstances have warranted your evacuation from the dorm. We have, it appears, sprung rather a large leak and have flooded out sections of the third and second floors which has necessitated turning off the water to the building. I request you bear with us as we arrange suitable accommodation for you for the next few days until damages can be assessed and repaired. The cafeteria staff will be serving drinks in the next half hour and preparing breakfast. I am sure it will distress you to learn I have cancelled all morning classes while we sort out placements. Should anyone feel they may be able to get some sleep after the disruption, the gymnasium will be opened in approximately fifteen minutes and sleeping mats provided. Everyone else, please remain in the cafeteria for the moment."

"Sprung a leak on the third floor." Quatre mused, leaning back in his seat and folding his fingers together to form a cradle, thumbs tapping together.

"Otto said our suite had plumbing problems." Zechs hunted in his duffle bag and produced a brush, proceeding to make some order of his sleep-mussed hair.

"Yeah, it looks like he may have been telling the truth." Duo muttered, eyeing the brush the blonde was using before diving into his own bag.

"Maybe." Quatre looked over the displaced students and dropped the chair to all four legs, resting his head onto his arms on the table top. "Wake me when they open the gym."

Duo arched an eyebrow and considered his friend for a long moment. "You are actually going to be able to get back to sleep?"

"I most certainly am going to try." Came the quiet mutter.

Plucking at the tie binding the tip of his braid Duo turned to the blonde working on a knot. "Zechs ?"

"Why would I bother trying to sleep? I'd have had to be up in an hour or so anyway. I wish I'd thought to bring a book, though. I can see this is going to get boring."

The conversation level in the cafeteria began to rise as the students speculated on their circumstances and the repercussions if the leak was the result of a prank bordering on outright vandalism, as rumour was suggesting. With the announcement of the gymnasium being prepared to take any of the students who felt they could sleep the numbers in the cafeteria thinned appreciably. For Duo the morning took on a far brighter aspect when the cafeteria staff began to serve coffee, tea and breakfast.

With the rising of the sun and the proximity to the normal breakfast period for the student body, the teachers emptied out the cafeteria of everyone who had already partaken of breakfast. With permission granted for the library to be used and the teacher's recreation room also made available for their use, the students were dismissed to find a means to amuse themselves. Other than being requested to check with the teachers, who would be available on the main lawn following breakfast, for updates no further instructions were issued.

Duo took the opportunity to slip away and take a quiet walk through the grounds. He could not see the Dean making any announcements of importance to him in the short term and he was not intending to be gone for any appreciable length of time. He wanted a few quiet minutes in which to consider the 'plumbing problems' and how best he might learn who had instigated the prank.

If it was a prank, he silently amended.

He strolled casually through the gardens, inclining back in the direction of the dormitory building he called home. He was careful to choose a spot in a garden cluster where he could watch the comings and goings of others and not be particularly conspicuous himself. He liked to know what was happening around him and was not particularly fond of others knowing his every action. He particularly enjoyed his ongoing game with the Head of Security and any chance he might find to annoy Otto was considered well worth his effort.

He liked the Security Commander, who reminded him of the security officer on the Sweeper ship that had transported him to Earth. If he had not been so set on building his dream machine he might have been interested in training under that worthy to be a Sweeper Security Officer himself. On the ship he had been taught self-defence routines and been complimented on being a quick study. With his talent in the fields of electronics and mechanics he could come up with some inventive new toys security agencies would appreciate. He already had some designs on the drawing board and one or two experimental models partially constructed.

He liked testing his wiles against Otto who had not, thus far, disappointed him. Otto had proven himself worthy of his notice in that there was very little he did that actually made it past the man. Duo was impressed with anyone being that alert and it only served to sharpen his appetite for testing his limits.

From his vantage point he watched the comings and goings of the plumbing contractor summoned to deal with the problem and was, he admitted to himself, disappointed. He had hoped the excuse was simply that, an excuse, and there was more to discover than a leaky pipe or two.

His curiosity brought him up out of a half doze at the sound of a heavy duty engine and blinking in the bright light he found himself staring at a large dark van. The vehicle was remarkable in that it was devoid of any signature markings he might use to identify it. Intrigued, he watched as the van was driven around the building in the direction of the car park at the rear. Tempted to slip around the building to further investigate he was distracted by the purr of another high-powered motor and crouched low as he watched a police car follow in the wake of the van.

//Hmmm, what have we here? Not just a leaky pipe if they have called in the local law enforcement. Maybe vandalism and not of the prankish variety if they are going so far as to make it an official police investigation.//

The unmarked van and the appearance of law enforcement officers put the leak in an entirely new light. It also opened up a world of speculation he had not considered before.

//Well, I guess there is no argument someone helped the pipes to leak. Good. Now I get to focus my ire on the little turd responsible for me being dragged out of bed this morning. Just as soon as I figure out who it was I'll teach them how not funny it was.//

The throaty purr of another motor distracted him from thoughts of revenge and he glanced around. It seemed particularly busy today on a drive that was generally fortunate to see two cars in the space of the entire day. It took a few seconds for the car to come into view and he found himself eyeing the low-slung sports car with admiration. He usually ignored the automobiles to be found in abundance on Earth, his interest more focused on spaceships, shuttles and the specialist machinery that enabled the human race to survive in space. There had been a few vehicles that had drawn his eye and this one, he decided, would look fast even when parked.

The car turned to follow the road around behind the dormitory block and he caught a glimpse of messy dark coloured hair before overhanging branches and deep shade shielded the driver from him. He eyed the car for a long moment, paying particular attention to the registration plates before leaning back into his shadowed shelter.

//Now that is interesting. Government registration plates. Hmmm.// His fingers absently found the tip of his braid and he stroked the hair lightly, lost in thought. //I never payed any attention to the van's registration plates, but something tells me it might just be government issue too.//

If the driver of the sports car was a government investigator his estimation of the damage done to the dormitory escalated in leaps and bounds. For the University Governors to pull in a government department as well as involve the local law enforcement agency to investigate a case of vandalism was a little overboard in his opinion. The Dean had always struck him as being a particularly sensible individual. Something was going on in the dorm and he wished he could sneak into the building, but he could see security guards at the doors and did not doubt Otto would be unamused if he tried to enter.

//Always assuming he caught me, of course.// He grinned at the thought.

An amusing thought, to try to enter the building but a little voice he rarely listen to suggested now was not the time to test the Security Chief. It was a rare occasion he gave credence to that whispered conscience but this morning he listened. After waiting a few minutes he decided there would be no more unexpected arrivals and he had best check nothing of importance had been announced during his absence. With a last speculative glance at the dorm Duo made his way back to the gathering of students before the main building.

He found Quatre sitting to one side of a large group of students and enjoying a bowl of breakfast cereal with a tray set to one side filled with toast and little packets of jam and spreads. Three containers of orange juice were set near him on the grass.

"Tuck in." Quatre grinned at him.

There were days he could very publicly kiss his friend for his thoughtful nature. "Thanks, don't mind if I do. Anything interesting happen?"

"No. Everyone is bored and there has been talk of begging for a class just to give us something to do."

He blinked at Quatre and shook his head, unable to believe anyone would actually want classes after the Dean had graciously cancelled them for the displaced students. Some days he thought these pampered offspring of the famous and wealthy had never been taught the art of relaxation. Too few of them seemed to recognize a golden opportunity when it bit them on the backside.

"You are shitting, me, Kitty Cat? We get the morning off and they want to go to class?"

Quatre waved a hand airily to dismiss the subject, not inclined to suffer through another debate on a subject Duo found dear to his heart. "So where did you go?"

"Back to the dorm to have a little sniff around. Something is off about their explanation."

"I have been asking around too. I have learned it was the suite below our old suite that was flooded this morning. They woke up to interior rain and raised the alarm. It was described to me as being something of a torrential downpour, not just a few drips. There really is a plumbing problem." He was not sure if he was disappointed or not by the simplicity of the problem.

"It would have had to be caused in our suite then." Duo mused.

"That was my thought too. Are you determined to find the prankster?"

"You bet your little black booties I am. The turkey needs lessons in when not to prank and I'm just the person to teach them the dos and don'ts of good pranking."

"I haven't found the students assigned to the rooms on either side of the suite yet to ask if they know anything. If you are determined then I'll find them and see what I can learn from them. Just promise me not to go overboard with your revenge."

Duo nodded a twinkle in his eyes. "Promise they will still be alive when I am finished with them. The thing is I'm not so sure it was just a prank after what I saw a while ago."

"What did you see exactly?"

"If it was a prank the partridge is mine for the plucking and I'm not inclined to share my prey." He studied his roommate for a long moment and sighed.

Some days Quatre didn't have to say anything, those blue eyes just suckered you in and your will crumbled. He had not made up his mind if he would share his theory but beneath the weight of those eyes there seemed little will to hold back information.

"Okay, okay! I think something else is going on. It may not have been just a prank that went a little overboard from youthful exuberance. Something is off about the whole deal."

Quatre arched an eyebrow and waited, willing to trust Duo's senses. He had learned the Sweeper had a sixth sense for trouble and in a University designed specifically to train the paranormal senses he was not inclined to doubt his friend's feelings. He was quite willing to wait to find out why Duo suspected more that a prank had been played.

"Otto told us there was a body found yesterday and now parts of the dorm are flooded. Is that just coincidence? Maybe, but there is a city police patrol car parked out back of the dorm and an unmarked van I think is carrying government registration plates."

"That might have something to do with the body found yesterday and nothing to do with the plumbing."

"Yeah, that's possible but that would be one whopping big coincidence and I stopped believing in fairytales when they handed me my first screw-driver and screw. Besides, the van was not local law enforcement, trust me. Just before I left a very nice sports job pulled in that is certainly government registered. They don't hand those babies to the local cops."

Quatre set aside his bowl and considered Duo for a long moment, watching as he spread raspberry jam on a slice of toast and in two bites crammed the entire slice in his mouth. His friend's curiosity was the only thing Quatre had ever found as insatiable as his appetite. That curiosity had led him into and out of many situations most of the students at Tsuberov would have avoided like the plague.

"You are sure the sports car and van are government registered?"

"Yup. No doubt at all." Duo considered the selection of spreads before buttering a second slice of toast.

"I am surprised you came back and didn't hang around to find out more." Quatre leaned back, resting his hands behind him to support his weight as he watched half a slice of toast vanish as efficiently as the first.

"I will be going back shortly." He flashed Quatre a wide grin. "I smelt the toast and knew you would feed me."

The Winner heir snorted. "I know you have already eaten and you can slow down before you choke. I haven't seen Zechs to invite him for a second breakfast. He was not in the cafeteria when I arrived so you may as well eat it all. Have you seen him?"

"Nah. He was grousing about having nothing to do when I left, so he probably got fed up with himself and went to the library. You know he doesn't like to sit and contemplate the daisies."

"Unless he has a sketch book in hand." Quatre chuckled. "I will keep an eye out for him then and fill him in on your suspicions. Do you really think there might be a connection between the body Otto mentioned and the plumbing troubles ?"

"Yeah, I do. I think it's too much of a coincidence. What I can't account for off hand is why the plumbing would be attacked after the body was found yesterday?"

"I will agree it could be viewed as suspicious. Mind you, the Dean has not suggested a prank, that rumour was started by the students."

"Yeah, well what else do they expect when they give us only so much information to work from?" Duo chuckled. "If we consider the facts as they stand point by point we might come up with something. So, point one, there was a body."

"Which Otto stated was the result of a mishap. He never mentioned anything about murder or mayhem making it unlikely the body is in any way related to a problem with the plumbing."

"He wouldn't though, would he? I mean, what concern is it of ours when you really sit down and think about it? Did we really need to know there was a body and might it have been possible for the university to hide the incident from the students?"

"It is a university focusing around psychic abilities." Quatre returned. "It would be unlikely they could keep that kind of secret."

"So they deal with it by admitting there was an incident. They just refrained from revealing all of the gory details."

"Yes."

"You have to admit it is worth playing around with conspiracy theories." Duo shrugged at Quatre's quirked eyebrow. "It is better than thinking about some of the lessons ahead of me this year. Look, Quatre, my something-is-wrong-itch is begging to be scratched and itching something fierce. They say I am not clairvoyant and I didn't even put a squiggle on their test program, but I've learned over the years to listen to the itch."

"I know and I still think they may have been mistaken about you."

"They don't think so. Anyway, you know there is only one way to fix the itch and it usually only acts up when there is a bad odour in the house. I think we really need to find out what is going on."

Quatre silently agreed with the assessment as he watched Duo make short work of three slices of toast and a carton of orange juice. The Sweeper's appetite was rather formidable and Quatre was quick to rescue at least one slice for his own enjoyment. Fortified by this second breakfast Duo graciously permitted Quatre to consume the last of the toast while he considered the students milling around.

"So do you have any ideas about the plumbing and how it could be linked to the discovery of the body?"

Duo hesitated and grinned sheepishly. "Ah, no. Otto mentioned our suite had plumbing problems when we saw him yesterday. It's a fair conclusion since the suite under ours was flooded that our suite was flooded too. It seems reasonable that it was the source of the flood."

"Whether it was the source or not I don't know, but I agree it is a fair assumption to make." Quatre rubbed absently at his cheek. "We need to keep in mind that it could be just coincidence the pipes burst."

"Ooh, look, flying piggies." Duo smirked but sobered under the serious blue eyes. "Yeah, I suppose it could be but I doubt it. If it is coincidence and not related in any way to the body…" He sighed. "Stop it with the Look, Kitty Cat!"

"I never said a word, Duo." Quatre blinked innocently at him.

"You don't have to! Okay, we forget the body… for now. On to theories, okay? Try these. Someone had a buzz in their energy converter and engaged in some malicious vandalism."

Quatre considered the use of Sweeper slang and decided not to comment. There were no staff members close enough to overhear Duo mangling the language and threaten elocution lessons.

"Theory two, someone has it in for Tsuberov and is intent on making trouble."

"But why ?" Quatre shook his head slowly, frowning as he considered the bluer than blue sky overhead. "There has to be a reason why. No one at Tsuberov would engage in that sort of idiocy. Besides, it is an awful lot of trouble to go to, don't you think? They would have to beat the security system we have here just to make a few pipes leak to annoy someone."

"How much do you think it is going to cost the University to repair the damage done to the dorm ?" Duo quirked an eyebrow and smirked.

"Insurance, Duo." Quatre dismissed the suggestion.

"How much do you want to bet if this type of incident was repeated more than a few parents might consider Tsuberov to be less safe than they claim? It could cost Tsuberov a packet of credits with lost patronage and reduced enrolments. A good name is everything in this business of providing for the rich and famous."

"Well … Yes, I suppose you have a point there."

"It annoys me why you think everyone from Tsuberov would be above a spot of vandalism. Think again, Quatre. Because you come from a rich and famous background does not necessarily give you an exemplary sense of right and wrong. Kitty Cat, you need to stop thinking like that. Tick someone off enough, no matter their background, and you would be surprised at what they would do to exact revenge. Someone on the outside could have it in for the University itself, a pet grievance or something for imagined wrongs, something like that. If it is a prank then it stands to reason someone from here had to do it and they would most likely have had to be from the dorm itself. That means we will be considered suspect and you can expect to be questioned. Don't discount the body either. It may have something to do with it."

"Don't start with the body again, please. I suppose you are right and I should not consider Tsuberov students to be above a bit of petty vandalism." Quatre sipped his orange juice and waved a hand in the general direction of the security building and the dormitory. "Otto never exactly said a lot about the body, did he? It's too far-fetched though to think of petty vandalism and someone who died as the result of an accident being connected."

"Personally I don't consider it far-fetched. Possibly unrelated but not far-fetched."

"We need to consider other possible causes for the damage though."

"Fine, if you insist. What about a poltergeist? If they think we have a bit of poltergeist activity they might call in a Medium to settle things down." Duo suggested.

"It could even have been the result of an emergent kinetic talent from one of the students." Quatre suggested. "I heard someone say he discovered he was a kinetic talent when he threw a temper tantrum at their father and the next thing he knew he had ripped the electrical wiring out of the walls. The family had no idea he was a psychic before that incident. It is feasible someone might have had a nightmare and awakened kinetic potential … or simply lost control of their barriers."

"It was Brady told you that, right? Yeah, I remember the incident being mentioned soon after I arrived.' Duo shrugged and crushed his drink carton, dropping it on the tray. "This is getting us nowhere. I think I'll head back and see what I can see without getting tagged by Otto. I believe in my itch and it says something interesting is happening and I want to find out what it is."

He stood and stretched, feeling his muscles pull as he worked out stiffness in his shoulders. Quatre considered his juice carton in turn and sighed.

"Be careful. I'll do some asking around and see what I can come up with. I will meet you under the oak tree for lunch if I don't see you before then."

"Yup. I'll keep an eye out for Zechs, but he's probably gone to ground with a book."

"Be careful Otto does not notice you poking around where you do not belong. After the last time he caught you where you were not supposed to be he …"

"He's okay, you know?" Duo interrupted and grinned, blue-violet eyes dancing with laughter. "For a Security Commander he's pretty good at being civil and understanding of youthful curiosity." He sniggered. "I've come across some real assholes before who think they are God because they wear a badge but Otto, he's okay. Don't worry, I'll be careful. Catch you at lunch."

Quatre sighed, knowing there was no argument he could use that would stem the Sweeper's curiosity. That insatiable curiosity and the restless energy that marked his friend was why he found Duo so intriguing. He had little doubt if the Sweepers could harness that energy Duo would go far in their ranks.

"Be sure to keep your ear out for any instructions the Dean issues. I do not expect we will be left out here too much longer without being given something constructive to do. The fact he does not already have us in some sort of activity makes me wonder just how much damage has been done."

"Sure." Duo glanced down at him. "I'll keep my ear to the ground and I expect to have some interesting tidbits of info for you when we meet up for lunch."

Quatre refrained from commenting on the possibility there might be nothing of interest to find. This was all a part of the repercussions of the early morning wake up. He would like the opportunity to say a few choice words to the idiot who had pulled a prank that affected a sleep-deprived Duo Maxwell. They could be paying for the rude awakening for weeks, until Duo worked the irritation out of his system.

"You might want to see about lunch early, Duo. The cafeteria rota is out of order and you can hardly move in the canteen. It might be best if the first one who gets into the cafeteria orders for everyone else, okay? We can escape to the oak and eat in peace."

"Fine with me." Duo spun, braid flying and ready to be off and investigating.

"Duo."

"Yeah ?" He turned back to his room mate.

"Are you intending to lodge the complaint about last night ?"

"Oh yeah." The normally jovial light in his eyes chilled to a hard glare. "I'm not changing my view on what I thought of being left standing outside. I don't think my Guardian will be letting it go either and if he does I'll do some squealing of my own. I'll have the complaint written and lodged before the day is done."

Quatre smiled. "Good. It was not acceptable."

With quick grace Duo worked his way through the crowd and slipped into the undergrowth of a bordering garden bed, avoiding the attention of Professor Havers who, he decided, looked particularly sour this morning. He hoped Zechs remained safely wherever he was lurking, given the Professors penchant for finding fault with him. If Duo had his way the old buzzard would no longer have the opportunity to insult those he was supposedly here to teach.

His first point of interest after leaving Quatre would be to check on the registration plates for the van he had watched earlier. With the decision made he strolled through the grounds of the university, nodding and smiling to students and staff he met. No one seemed particularly curious as to his destination, or passed a comment on him being away from the main gathering. It was an unusual freedom and one he was determined to exploit to his advantage.

Nearing the dormitory he slipped into heavy foliage and paused, peering about him to determine if anyone who might be in the vicinity looked to have noticed. Satisfied he was not likely to have a teacher breathing down his neck, he threaded his way through the garden bed inclining toward the rear of the building.

He was not expecting there to be a guard stationed at the car park and a quick glance around showed him to be correct in his assumption. What was a concern for him was their old suite overlooked the rear of the dormitory including the majority of the car park. It was entirely possible someone investigating the damage might chance to look out a window and observe him.

When he broke from his cover he would need to look casual as he walked through the car park. He would need to observe as much as possible before he left his cover.

Crouched behind a particularly healthy bush with foliage ideally suited to hiding him from the casual observer, he ran an attentive eye over the vehicles assembled. There were considerably more cars than he had expected and it drew a soft breath of expectation from him.

He recognized the two Mercedes Benz sedans parked side by side as belonging to Tsuberov Governors. The two plumbing contractors vans, each with the rear of the vehicles open and displaying a wealth of equipment, were parked closest to the dormitory for easy access. He could make out the red sports car half hidden by the other vehicles and there was no mistaking the dark-coloured van. He would need to get closer to check out the registration plates and note any other identifying markings.

There were two additional vehicles he did not recognize, a black sedan being the first to attract his attention. He recognized the vehicle as he had been interested in the design and specifications of the hybrid engine when the car had been released for sale less than two years previously. He had been impressed at the time and while the car was not exceptional to look at, it was efficient in performance and from reports it was a pleasure to drive. The other vehicle he did not recognize was a larger and rather more luxurious silver grey Mercedes parked a few spaces down from the hybrid.

Duo pursed his lips as he ran an appreciative eye over the car. //A Ghost. Damn, I never thought I'd see one of those close up, even here at Tsuberov. I guess it could belong to one of the Governors, their own personal car, but I don't think anyone could have resisted the urge to show it off before now. Although it might be a new purchase.//

He surveyed the area carefully, looking for anyone who might notice his interest in the vehicles and finding no one in sight he slipped quickly up to the black hybrid and peered inside. Not daring to try to open the doors for fear it might have an active alarm set, he popped his head up to the driver's side window.

Neat as a pin with no papers left lying on the seats so he might glimpse a letterhead, not even an empty bottle, wrapper or take away coffee cup. It appeared the owner of the vehicle was meticulous, or the car might originate from a car pool with conscientious supervisors to keep it clean. There was no clue on offer here to assist him in determining the occupation of the absent driver.

What drew Duo's attention and caused an appreciative gleam to appear in his eyes was the state of the art global positioning system. The unit was inset into the dashboard within easy reach of the driver and partnered with what looked to be a high-powered communications system and computer terminal.

"Wow." He pressed his nose to the glass in an effort to view the unit and whistled softly in appreciation. "Hmm, nice piece of hardware. Definitely not what you would expect to find in your common everyday runabout though."

It was what he would expect to find in the vehicle of a high-powered business executive who needed to be in contact with the entire ESUN at all times with the touch of a finger. This was the type of setup he had noted in the vehicles he had encountered on L4 belonging to the Winner executives and the Winner himself. He might also expect to find such equipment in the vehicles of top government investigation agents.

//Who is this guy?//

A quick glance around the area assured him he was still alone and he slipped around the car to the rear where he could view the registration plate.

//A-034-K5.// He mused.

It was unlike the local registry vehicles, even the private and rather expensive personalized plates driven by the Tsuberov Board of Governors. The plate itself was blue with the writing in cream, both colours he knew would be highly reflective under light at night, but the layout of the identifying letters was unlike any he had seen.

//Car pool.// He decided. //Has to be a company car pool.//

The 'A' could stand for the company he decided and it was possible the car might be the thirty fourth in the company pool of vehicles. Try as he might he could not come up with an explanation for the K5 that would not send him into a fit of eye-rolling and sniggering.

//As if that is important. // He snorted. //Get it together, Maxwell, before Otto comes along and fries your butt for snooping.//

Deciding playing word games with licence plates was a little below him given the situation, he left the hybrid and made his way to the silver grey Mercedes. It was, he decided, a very nice piece of machinery. Sleek, without a mark on it and looking as though it had just rolled off the show room floor it glistened in the sunlight.

//You would be worth a very pretty sum. Someone has money. You would leave the Mercs the Governors drive in the dust, you beautiful thing you.//

It was difficult to see within the interior as the heavily tinted windows defeated him, swallowing the light. He could make out dark upholstery and a blinking light in the vicinity of what he suspected was another GPS and communications console similar to the one installed in the hybrid. Peering through the much lighter tinted windscreen into the interior of the vehicle showed little more than the black seat backs of the front seats.

//Damn, I'd like to have a look at this beauty. I bet she has some nice toys on the console.//

Frustrated with his inability to see more and knowing this vehicle must have a security system, he resisted the urge to do more than look through the windshield. After kneeling to check the registration plate he slipped into the garden bed behind the car park, emerged on the lawn on the far side and shuffled his way through the garden, the picture of innocence.

//Well, the Ghost and the hybrid have to belong to the same car pool if A-034-K5 and A-076-P1 is any indication. The cars are obviously private registration, big company issue probably and not general public licensing. The numbers and letters are all wrong for this area of Europe, so they have to be from a company spanning the ESUN. It takes big bucks to arrange licensing valid in every zone of the Earth sphere. Interesting.//

He had checked the unmarked van as it was parked not too far from the Mercedes and had been gratified to learn his assumption was correct. The registration plate clearly marked the vehicle as Northern European registration marked with the ESUN government seal.

//The sporty red slinky and the hulky black van are government vehicles, but what possible reason would they have for being at Tsuberov? It's just a bit of vandalism at worst, at best a leaky damn pipe. Why bring in the big boys for that?//

Duo considered the question as he worked his way around the lawn and put another huge garden planting between himself and the dormitory before inclining in toward the security office. He chose a position from which he could observe the comings and goings from the dormitory building and keep an eye on the security office. He was not particularly keen on the idea of Otto sneaking up on him and decided he had at least a half hour before the sun moved sufficiently to put him in full sunlight. Before then he would need to find another shady spot.

What he had gleaned thus far was not a great deal he admitted, but it was enough to convince him something out of the ordinary had occurred. He could understand the appearance of the representatives of Tsuberov's governing body and the local constabulary if the disruption was the result of deliberate and rather wanton vandalism. It was the appearance of the slinky red sports car and what he presumed must be a forensic unit that most disturbed him.

Perhaps there was more to the flood than just malicious damage? It was possible, of course, that someone had caused the leak and disruption to cover up other activities. Perhaps the dorm had been visited by an intruder out for more than mischief. A thief, perhaps? He had to admit Quatre was right about the quality of the students at Tsuberov and he really could not see any of those he had even a passing acquaintance with being involved in this degree of mischief.

//Still, when all is said and done stranger things had happened. The kids of the rich and famous often have bigger problems than street kids with discipline.//

That thought stopped him cold and he found himself staring hard at the building. The children of the rich and famous. Tsuberov was full of the offspring of movie stars, corporate elites, politicians and the nobility of the world and colony elite. There were few students at Tsuberov who did not lay claim to a famous or well to do parent and that kind of patronage came with some very unique problems. There was a reason security at Tsuberov was so intense.

"I wonder… Kidnapping? A kidnapping would explain the appearance of ESUN agents at Tsuberov. I'll have to ask Quatre if he has noticed anyone conspicuous by their absence. It would account for government law enforcement working hand in hand with local investigators. The vandalism of the plumbing could feasibly be used as a distraction enabling the kidnappers to escape. It would probably wipe out vital evidence as well.//

He snorted softly, congratulating himself on allowing his imagination to run rampant and come up with a viable, though unlikely, solution. Given the extent of the security system at the University a mouse would not be able to enter Tsuberov's dormitories without sounding alarms. He knew that for a fact as a mouse had tripped the alarms the previous year.

//Still, I'll check with Quatre. He seems to know everyone and he should know if anyone was missing this morning.//

As his speculations seemed intent on advancing in leaps and bounds in diverse directions Duo decided it was time to relax. Coming up with increasingly unlikely scenarios, while good for mental gymnastics, would do nothing to take advantage of an unexpectedly lazy morning. At this time he should be preparing to attend a class he had not particularly been looking forward to and resting held so much more appeal.

He settled down in the shade of the tree, propping himself up against the trunk in a position that would afford him the best possible view of both buildings that held his interest. Otto might be in the Security Office and he was not inclined to miss the man's appearance if he could help it. He watched the comings and goings of the security staff as he pretended to doze, noting the amount of activity around the dormitory building and the comings and goings of the staff from the Security building. He might get away with the excuse of dozing with the majority of the security guards but Otto was another matter. He would need to be prepared to beat a graceful retreat.

The gardens at Tsuberov were designed to absorb sound and despite the comings and goings of so many within his sight the noise from their presence was minimal. Duo found himself drifting off, lulled by the carefully cultivated peace and serenity of the grounds. It was so easy to relax and allow the tranquillity to flow over him and disturbing thoughts seemed distant and of no immediate concern. He was almost asleep when movement at the entrance to the dormitory sparked his survival instinct.

He would know Otto anywhere and Duo decided discretion was by far the better part of valour and it might just be time to find a new observation post. He was not particularly keen on the idea of having something found for him to do, a task he knew Otto would take a fiendish delight in arranging if he suspected Duo to be snooping.

Merely bolting would guarantee he would be noticed. He had tried that in his early days at Tsuberov and he had been quick to determine the folly of such action. Standing, he took the time to dust off his trousers, all the while watching from under the cover of his bangs as the three men who had exited the dorm strolled across the lawn in his general direction. Not so much in his direction, he realized, as in the direction of the Security building.

Otto was not well known for opening his Security Office to outsiders, a fact Duo knew well. It interested Duo that they were receiving personal attention from Otto and such attention raised the importance of the pair. The more he watched the more he sensed Otto was treating them with a guarded respect and a deference he had rarely displayed, even to the richest of the Tsuberov patrons.

//I've never seen Otto react to anyone like he is to you. I think it would benefit me to learn exactly who you are and what you are doing here.//

They made an odd pairing, he thought as the group neared him. Otto seemed to be listening intently to the smaller of the two, who was of oriental extraction, possibly Chinese, he decided. Small, slender, graceful and very kind on the eyes. Duo prided himself on being a connoisseur of the male form and expected to improve his appreciation as he matured.

He decided this oriental fellow was one of the better looking men of Asian decent he had had the pleasure to observe. He decided the shoulder length black hair, restrained in a tight ponytail, would soften the man's aspect considerably if permitted to fall free. The body language given off by this unknown he read as being all business and suggested a no-nonsense individual. He prided himself on being a shrewd judge of character and determined he would not be keen on being on the wrong side of the Asian.

The second man was taller, in the vicinity of six feet, he decided, perhaps a little taller. He was trim, solidly built and European aristocracy was stamped in every line of his body. From the designer suit to the patent leather shoes the man radiated class to even the most casual observer. He claimed a fine-boned, distinctly good-looking aspect marked by split eyebrows and he radiated an air of confidence. Taken all together his appearance struck Duo as being one to watch out for.

//I don't know who you are but you are one fine looking man.//

Vivid blue eyes and hair Duo thought might be described as auburn, somewhere between red and brown, with two locks that fell engagingly over his forehead, complimented the fine aristocratic lines of his face. There was breeding in that face and he moved with the same easy grace that marked his Oriental companion's stride.

He was brought back to Earth with a cold chill as he realized Otto was scowling at him. Duo knew when it was time to withdraw, but he was not inclined to gulp and flee even from the Security Commander's baleful glare. Acknowledging the Security Chief with a barely perceptible nod and a final hard stare at the two men accompanying him Duo strolled toward the administration building. He could feel Otto's eyes on his back and attempted to look as uninterested in the Chief's companions as he was in the pigeon poop marking the footpath.

//Look away, damn you. Look away and go on your way, I'm not at all interested in you.//

Not until he felt himself to be clear of scrutiny, Otto's or either of the two men accompanying him, did he slip back into a garden bed and make himself scarce. He would take a quick tour of the grounds around the main building and then slip back into a position where he could watch the comings and going.

//At least until it is closer to lunch.//

t.b.c.

Karina Robertson 2007

00000000000000000000000000

Authors Note:

The Mercedes Ghost Treize drives is, to the best of my knowledge, an entirely fictional model. I don't believe Mercedes Benz have ever had a model called a Ghost. It is purely author's poetic licence. I thought a company with the reputation and prestige of the Mercedes might still exist in the somewhat futurisitc setting of the AC timeline.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

After removing himself from Otto's line of sight Duo decided a brief sojourn through the gardens was in order. Keeping clear of the Security Office and the dorm building he soaked in the peace of the grounds away from the main complex. Aimless wandering was therapeutic and perfect for giving consideration to the events of the day and he had a great deal to consider. None of his theoretical speculations on the activities of the night could be proven unless he could somehow gain access to the building. Should he even manage to get inside and into the suspect area, he was uncertain if he would be able to recognize a valid clue if he chanced to fall over it.

/Not that I will actually be able to get in there personally./ He could not resist the wicked grin. /There is no way Otto would allow any of us into the building, but then I don't actually have to get in there in person, do I?/ His eyes twinkled with sudden mischief. /I might just have the solution to gaining a peek./

Deciding a half hour of aimless wandering was sufficient time to make himself scarce, he unobtrusively returned to find a shielded position from which he could observe the dormitory building. Duo settled into his shaded position in time to watch the two curiously intriguing men he had watched earlier approaching the dormitory's main entrance.

/I wonder who you are and what you are doing here?/ He mused.

Given his suspicions an event as serious as kidnapping may have taken place, he wondered if the two men might not be ESUN Investigators. The auburn-haired man and his unmistakable aristocratic heritage was the sticking point in his theory. In his, admittedly, limited experience he doubted the nobility of Earth would immerse their uppity noses in something as crass as law enforcement. Unless, of course, the kidnapped individual chanced to be of the aristocracy.

/That might stir their decadent butts into taking some form of action./ Duo winced at the snide flavour of the thought. /It is just as well Kitty Kat isn't here to hear me think it. Zechs would have had a snigger about it, but Quatre sure as hell would not. He tends to think along different lines when it comes to dealing with differing social classes or cultures./

"_One should not make fun of someone who comes from a different culture. What you might think of as being ludicrous rules and regulations may have originated as a means of survival in past times. What may seem to you a minor infringement might just be an offence punishable by death in another culture - and for good reasons, too. The point is, if you do not know for certain how something might be interpreted, you don't say or do it until you know."_

/ He's told me often enough and I guess he does have a point. Some of the things Tsuberov bends over backwards to provide for more exotic guests than a Sweeper brat, particularly when it comes to religious preferences, fairly boggles the mind. I guess thinking about that kind of provision and being perpetually neutral is the way he was reared. High-powered businessmen these days have to be diplomats if they want to succeed in business deals covering the entire Earth Sphere. If I ever want to captain my own ship, I will have to do something about adjusting my mind set. Ships Captains always have to be aware of cultural peculiarities./

He stifled a yawn and pinched the bridge of his nose, cursing again the necessity of being dragged out of a nice warm bed at a pre-dawn hour. It was a pity once woken in such a manner he could not settle down to sleep again. By the time night rolled around he would be only too willing to fall into the arms of Morpheus.

/I wonder where we will be assigned temporary sleeping arrangements? There are not too many vacant suites, or even single rooms in the complex. We are practically at capacity from what I overheard last semester. That might change if this business is not dealt with soon and quietly. I wonder if it was a kidnapping and if the people here to investigate are from different departments of the ESUN, or if some of them are privately employed by Tsuberov? I doubt the government dogs would be too keen on having private investigators stomping over their clues. Or vice versa./

The registration plates of the cars at the rear of the building concerned him. The dark van and the slinky red sports car openly carried ESUN government plates. However, the Ghost and the hybrid were another matter. The rather ambiguous registration plates did not strike him as denoting obvious government vehicles, although he supposed they might be from an elite investigation branch of the government.

/Of course it is possible those two men might have nothing to do with whatever went on in the dorm last night. It might be a coincidence, but if it was why would they be going into the dorms now? I wonder if Kat would recognize their department and who they might belong to if I described the registration plates to him? They could be colony investigators and the Winners keep abreast of that sort of thing. They have to have something to do with the investigation and it would help a whole lot more if I could figure out what exactly happened last night./

He had discounted the idea of a prank, although it was more than possible what had begun as a prank had gone horribly wrong. No one, to his knowledge, had seen any ambulance or emergency vehicles attending during the night and certainly a hearse had not made an appearance to carry away a body. If no one had died or been injured and required to be taken to hospital, what then could explain the appearance of the rather interesting assortment of investigators now present at Tsuberov?

/I can't see anyone in authority here being exactly quick to offer an explanation other than plumbing problems. There is something far more interesting than plumbing happening here, and the more determined they are to pass it off as a leaky pipe the more determined I am to find out what is really happening./

The two strangers were long gone into the building and other than a few security guards relieving the shift watching the dorm no one seemed to be moving about. Settling his back comfortably to the trunk of the large tree Duo settled down to keep watch.

/Otto should be stalking around so I will have to keep an eye out for him, I suppose. It is going to be a warm day from the feel of it./

The problem with being woken in the small hours of the morning, after a full day of exhausting travel, and then finding a quiet and restful place in which to relax, was that even the most hyperactive individual might relax sufficiently to drift off to sleep. Duo had settled under the tree with no intention of sleeping. In fact he had been certain he would find sleep impossible following the disruptions of the night and day. It came as rather a rude awakening to feel the light brush of a hand on his shoulder and hear the distinctive voice of his nemesis.

"Should you not be doing something more constructive than snoring beneath magnolia trees, Mr. Maxwell?"

"Hmmm?"

"Mr. Maxwell. I believe you need to find something to do other than compete with the birds for the loudest sounds to be heard on this particularly fine day."

Blinking against the bright sunlight shining directly into his eyes Duo finally made sense of what was being said to him. A chilling sensation crept up his spine when he recognized the voice and he woke with a start to find Otto kneeling beside him. The Security Officer was smirking.

"Otto?" Duo dragged himself from any lingering tendrils of sleep and looked about him.

The shadows had changed considerably and an annoying shaft of sunlight pierced the canopy to strike him in the eyes. Pulling himself up into a seated position he scrubbed at his face, trying to gather his thoughts.

"Damn, I must have dropped off."

"Indeed. I suggest you find something more constructive to do to occupy your time."

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess I had better shift my arse. Damn, I don't usually sleep through the day. What time is it?"

"Approaching midday." Otto rose smoothly and offered a hand, pulling Duo up effortlessly. "You might think about having lunch before the cafeteria fills up."

A long stretch and jaw cracking yawn later Duo nodded briefly to the taller man and shuffled off toward the main cluster of buildings marking the hub of the University.

/I wonder what I missed? Are those two guys still in the building or have they gone? Maybe I should go check the car park before lunch?/

Recalling Quatre's warning concerning lunch Duo decided he could always check later. He was often remarked on as being perpetually hungry and this day was no exception. The cafeteria appeared far more desirable than sneaking around a car park and he did not want to make Otto suspicious of him considering their encounters already this morning.

Duo scowled on noting the crush of bodies around the main entrance to the cafeteria. He sincerely hoped one of his roommates had managed to attend to the problem of lunch earlier than he. From the crush he expected there to be a long wait before he could make it to the oak tree.

He nodded briefly to a greeting from a slender young woman, a kinetic who had shared training sessions with him in the manipulation of minute objects. Taking a deep breath to fortify himself he took the plunge, braving the crush. Squeezing and worming his supple, slender frame through the mass of bodies trying to fit into the cafeteria, he reached a position where a jump or two and craning his neck provided him with a glimpse of Quatre just now being served.

Noting the large tray piled high with food and drinks containers he breathed a sigh of relief; he would not need to stand in line to garner food for himself and his roommates. He'd have to remember to kiss Quatre for braving the horde and ordering for them all. More bouncing and peering over heads procured protests about stomped on toes, but revealed Zechs standing near the far exit. He felt the light brush against his mind that informed him Zechs had noted his presence and the telepathic assurance the oak tree was still the point at which they would have lunch. He was delighted to be able to escape the crowded hall and backed out through the crush amongst much jostling and protesting.

Usually the cafeteria was visited for meals in set rotations, but with the unexpected displacement from classes those displaced by the plumbing difficulties complicated the usual routine. The junior students had turned out as usual for lunch to find the cafeteria half filled with older and quite bored students. It was a recipe for a nightmare and Duo sniggered as he watched the frazzled instructors attempting to sort order into the chaos.

He apologised for stepping on toes, for knocking juniors into each other and for generally going against the flow of people. He nodded to a harried instructor, signalling with his fingers he was trying to leave and not cause trouble, and received a nod of understanding and no reprimand. As far as he was concerned the entire situation was almost laughable. Someone should have thought of the chaos having so many students in the cafeteria might cause during this two-hour period.

"Mr. Maxwell, assembly in the main hall at one thirty. Please pass the message on."

He nodded his understanding and hoped at the assembly they would be giving out room assignments and adjusting the lesson roster to account for the disruption to the scheduling. A push here, a wiggle there, a muttered curse from someone and he was free of the crush, breathing a little heavier than normal and was quick to step to the side of new arrivals.

"This will not do, people! Let us have some order here!"

The Dean's voice rose above the general discontent and Duo was quick to make himself scarce, hurrying around the building with the intention of meeting up with Zechs at the far side. The leggy blonde was waiting for him to one side of the cafeteria door.

"Yo, Zechs. So what did you end up doing instead of tripping the light fantastic?"

"I read a book on Picasso." Zechs grinned. "Much more entertaining. Come on. This is too crowded for me and Quatre says he can manage the tray alone. We are to meet him under the oak by the Security Offices."

Duo nodded and hoped Otto would find himself elsewhere while they ate lunch. The man might become suspicious of meeting him in such close proximity to the Security Office so often in the one day, but if they did chance to meet at least this time he would not be conspicuously alone. For some reason if Quatre was present people tended to think they were not up to mischief.

/They don't seem to know Kitty Kat very well./ He sniggered to himself.

Duo waited until Zechs had moved into the main stream of students exiting the building and slithered through the gap opened up as Zechs nudged bystanders aside. He found the older man's larger body extremely convenient for opening up doorways and walkways. Few people ever complained about the blonde wanting to get through, and to Duo's knowledge Zechs had never had a physical altercation with anyone at the university.

/I guess most people just like to admire that tight backside as it goes past./ He chuckled to himself.

While he did not think much of the attitude of some of the older teachers at Tsuberov, in particular Professor Havers, Duo had to admit the majority of the students were open-minded and honest. It was only a small minority who appeared to have problems with dealing with people from so called 'lesser social circles'. Most of the students he had an acquaintance with acknowledged you could not remain at Tsuberov for any length of time if you did not have talent.

Tsuberov was more than simply a university. It was one of the premier training facilities for psionic ability in the Earth Sphere and psychic ability was considered more important than wealth and position by birth. The new world elite would be made up of those with exemplary psychic talent and the students were well aware Zechs Merquise was likely to be the first Prime talent Tsuberov had trained. It did not hurt that he had Quatre Winner as a dormmate either.

Duo was thankful when they broke away from the crowded hub of the university and made their way toward the quieter residential area. Having the Security Office relatively next door to their dorm meant there were less disturbances from their dormitory block than in other residential areas of the complex. The majority of students tended to congregate where they could make more noise with less fear of attracting the attention of the security personnel.

"So what were you doing while I was reading?"

"Investigating. We have some interesting people on the grounds today. So interesting, in fact, I'm wondering if it was a plumbing problem that saw the dorm evacuated."

"You saw the plumber. We all did." Zechs replied, inclining across the manicured lawn toward the security building. "I spoke to a couple of people in the suite below our old one and they were quite descriptive of the, quote, 'torrent', unquote, they woke up to this morning. We do have a problem with the plumbing of some description."

"I'm not arguing with that, but there is something more going down here than leaky pipes. I'm actually beginning to wonder if, maybe, we have something as serious as a kidnapping being dealt with under our noses."

Zechs paused to stare briefly at his roommate. "Kidnapping? Where did that theory come from?"

Duo waved a hand in the air, curtailing more questions. "I don't know who, if it was anyone. As yet I don't exactly know anything, but I've seen enough to make me suspect something pretty big is happening. You know how Tsuberov does not like to attract attention that might affect their bottom line, but whatever is happening is big enough to have Tsuberov call in government investigators."

Zechs frowned. "Tsuberov has called in government investigators? Are you sure about that? If they were to call in anyone I would have expected them to use private means by which to investigate something serious. I would certainly not expect them to make it obvious they had called in investigators at all. You are right, it would be considered bad for business."

"Yeah, well kidnapping is not the same as a bit of petty vandalism, is it? Have you noticed anyone conspicuous by their absence?"

Zechs sighed softly, well aware Duo was an avid conspiracy fan and not averse to making a few conspiracy theories of his own. It was usually very entertaining, but Zechs was a little put off with the idea of the words 'kidnapping' and 'Tsuberov' being used in the same breath. That scenario would be extremely difficult to carry out given the security protocols at the University. Difficult, he admitted, but nothing was impossible.

"No, I cannot say I have noticed anyone missing, but I have not been looking for anyone specific either. I've been in the library most of the morning."

Looking around, Zechs was pleased to see no one had claimed their favourite spot beneath the huge oak tree and lengthened his stride. Duo grinned affably and followed, well aware of the grumbling of his own belly. He hoped it would not take Quatre long to extricate himself from the chaos at the cafeteria.

"Well, I've been sniffing around trying to find a clue to lead me to the asshole that caused our wake up call. What I have seen does not gel with what we have been told… other than the fact we do have leaky pipes."

Zechs snorted and rolled his eyes as he settled with his back to the tree.

"Either one pipe with a massive big hole in it, or lots of pipes with lots of holes in them." Duo continued with a cheeky grin. "Loads of leaky, drippy, gushing pipes. Can you imagine how many holes there would have to be to allow that much water to rain on the suite below? It sounds so suss. Aren't you the least bit curious about it?"

"Not particularly." The blonde shrugged. "I have your promise if it was a prank you will make the 'drip' pay."

"Ohhh, plumbing jokes!" Duo laughed. "Is that a challenge?"

Zechs considered the wisdom of issuing such a challenge for all of two seconds. "Would it get your mind off kidnapping and other wild scenarios if it was?"

"Hell no." Duo chuckled.

"That's what I thought, so discount the joke challenge as a no go, please. You are bad enough at the best of times." Zechs grinned at his friend.

"Oohhh, the pain of it all!" Duo threw back his head theatrically, his right forearm to his forehead. "The things I do to see your life is entertaining and you sit there and insult me. Just as well I am not easily put off."

Zechs snorted at the theatrics. "The problem is you are not at all put off, no matter what anyone says or does."

Duo suddenly resembled a squirming, petted and pampered puppy. "Yeah, you better believe it. Irrepressible, that's me! I rise to any challenge head on…"

"Even when not challenged." Zechs interrupted with a snigger. "Settle down, Duo. Quatre is on his way with lunch."

"Cool bickies, Zechs my man. Food sounds good."

In the following silence Zechs managed to reach a count of ten before Duo was off again, unable to sit still and silent when he had an audience and a bee in his bonnet.

"I saw the cars in the car park out back of the dorm, and let me tell you they are well worth seeing. And I saw the spunkiest set of buns I've seen in a while… barring yours and Kitty Kat's, of course."

Merquise sighed and rolled his eyes making no effort to hide his grin. "Duo, you have to do something about…"

"Zechs?" Duo turned to his friend at the abrupt silence to find Zechs staring off in the direction of the dormitory.

Following the blonde's line of sight Duo felt his grin stretching wide. Otto and three men were just exiting the building, and as he watched they paused on the steps and appeared to be having an in-depth conversation. Duo would have given his eye-teeth to be near enough to hear their discussion. He had no difficulty recognizing the dark, exotic young man and the redhead as the two men who had attracted his interest a few hours before. The fourth man in the group was unknown to him and he made no effort to hide the appreciation he felt for the lithe, chocolate-haired man.

"Mmm, I've not had the pleasure of seeing him before." Sudden memory of a glimpse of dark hair and a slinky red sports car silenced Duo as he considered the stranger.

The seemingly untamed hair and a compact, very well put together body in the expensive suit was, in Duo's private opinion, rather droolable. He found himself hoping the group would walk their way so he could gain a more detailed inspection of the man.

"Oh, man. Yes, indeedy, that is another set of fine buns." He breathed. "I like."

The comment distracted Zechs from his own, rather intense, examination of the group and he grinned at Duo. "How can you tell? You haven't seen the back view yet. Your trouble is you fall in love twice a day."

"Nah. I just appreciate a great body and those guys all have that. Mind you, designer suits could account for a part of it." Blue-violet eyes glinted with mischief. He had not failed to note the center of the blond's attention. "That redhead's a bit of class, though. Has the look of the nobility about him, don't you think?"

Zechs refrained from rising to the bait, merely rising to his feet and taking the tray from Quatre as he joined them. Duo continued to stare at the four men on the steps and sighed.

"Hot as! I've seen the redhead and the Oriental before. They are the two I think might be private investigators… or elite government agents from a hush-hush department. I wonder who they are and what they are doing here."

Quatre snorted softly as he settled on the grass, following Duo's line of sight and he smirked. "You don't recognize the redhead?"

Duo glanced at the smaller blonde and caught a drink carton as it tumbled from the tray as Zechs sat back down. "Should I?"

"You honestly don't know who he is?" Quatre shook his head slightly. "You slay me some times, Duo, really you do. You are a Sweeper and you profess to want to go far in the Sweeper ranks, and develop those suits to make maintenance in space safer. All of those dreams and you don't recognize the owner of the company that makes the majority of electronic components you need in your design."

Duo's blank look produced an exasperated sigh from Quatre as he waved a hand toward the dorm.

"He's the nominal head of Kushrenada Electronics. That's Treize Kushrenada himself. Duke Treize Kushrenada, actually. The Kushrenada family is as heavily into the political arena as they are into electronics. They scored a Mars colony contract last year over Winner Corporation's bid. Dad was not too happy about losing to them."

Duo stared hard at the redhead and reflected that at least he got the aristocratic part right. A Duke, no less, but what was a high born noble and extremely successful businessman doing in a leaky dorm building? He supposed the Oriental might be his bodyguard. He certainly moved like a martial artist, graceful and precise. He noted Zechs watching the group and fancied the blonde was paying attention to the redhead above all others in the group.

"So what is a big businessman with a title doing in deep discussions with our security chief? He looks a bit too young to have a kid ready for Tsuberov. In fact he looks only a little older than Zechsy."

The men seemed to finish their discussion and descended the steps, strolling along the path in the direction of the security block. Zechs stared hard at the group and turned his attention to their lunch, unwilling to give anyone an excuse to single him out for a reprimand. Otto was always fair but it seemed to him he quite often became the focus for unwanted attention. Besides, it was lunch time and he was hungry. No one could pick a fault with him for eating his lunch under a tree on a warm day.

"From memory he's about twenty-four, maybe twenty-five." Quatre picked through the selection of salads he had brought and selected the one he had picked for himself. "My dad was rather impressed by him, actually. While he is the head of the company he's pretty much a silent voice from what I hear. He objected to being forced into the family businesses, namely electronics and politics… and the old families do more than just dabble in politics from what I have heard."

"Why would he object?" Duo queried. "I was under the impression the nobility of Earth delighted in pulling the strings of the ESUN."

Quatre rolled his eyes at Duo and sighed. "Don't tar everyone with the same brush, I've told you that before. I remember my father commenting a few years ago about how the Kushrenada heir had upset the projected balance of power when he refused to train in world level politics."

Duo scowled and shrugged, failing to grasp the implications. "So he refused to do what mummy and daddy wanted, what was the big deal about that?"

"Duo, in the old noble families of the European region, from the day a wedding takes place, the family on both sides of the match plan the future of any prospective children. A child born into one of those families is reared from the day they are born to take a place on the world stage, to advance their families' ideal of how the world should be. Each of the noble families, and their individual alliances, is basically a political party and they wield a lot of influence throughout the Earth Sphere. By the time they turn sixteen their children usually are pretty much accepting of the future their elders have decided is to be theirs, because it is what they have been reared to. Duty to the family, and the furtherance of family position and prestige, is the center pole of what they are taught."

"Well, that sucks." Duo considered Quatre for a long moment. "So basically Kushrenada was a rebel. He wanted something different and didn't fall into the mould they intended. I bet that upset the elders."

"Indeed it did. He wanted nothing to do with the family's view on where his efforts should be concentrated. He dug in his heels and resisted all efforts to get him to train in politics. When he reached eighteen he ignored the hands-on approach to the electronics side of the business. Apparently he was not overly interested in that either, and ran like hell from politics and family and went his own way." Quatre stared at his salad for a long moment and sighed. "I wish I was that gutsy. I'd love to try something else besides training to run the family business."

Zechs was watching Quatre and sympathized with his friend's position, which sounded quite similar to the fate determined for the Duke. "How do you know all this?"

"I am to be CEO of one of the largest companies in the ESUN. My dad makes a point of knowing everything there is to know about potential business rivals and Kushrenada Electronics is definitely considered a rival. There are a great many files I am required to read dealing with the office holders from rival companies."

"Hey, Kat, you could always tell your dad you want to try something new. He seemed like a reasonable sort." Duo was only too aware of the pressure on Quatre to conform to the mould of future CEO.

"I don't think so, Duo. Big business families are just as set in their ways as the old noble houses." Quatre visibly shook himself and fastened his attention on Zechs after a quick knowing smirk at Duo. "Duke Kushrenada managed to gain his freedom from the family mould because he's one of the nine viable Prime Telepathic Empaths, of which I expect you to make number ten, Zechs."

Duo whistled softly, deciding the Oriental simply had to be the man's bodyguard. Prime level talents were too valuable to be permitted to run around unescorted.

"No wonder Otto was treating him with such respect." Duo murmured.

"I'm not that good, Quatre." Zechs demurred. "I doubt I will actually make Prime level as a fully functional telepath."

"You are still studying at Tsuberov and will be for another six months or so. I have no doubt you will attain level ten down the board. If you did not - but you will - it would not be by much that you failed and you are already a Prime-rated empath. With such a high telepathic rating you would no doubt be circulating in the same circles as the Duke."

"Yeah, Zechs, you have time yet. So what do you think the man is doing at Tsuberov, Quatre? If he has little to do with the electronics business he would not be here to sell Otto some new security device, and he's just too young to have a kid to enrol."

"Well," Quatre sipped at his orange juice and considered Duo for a long moment, shrugging slightly. "I'm not really sure about this, you understand. It might not be true, but I heard he defied family tradition in order to train his Psi talent to its full potential and paid for the training out of his own personal fortune. My father's investigators seemed a little vague on this point. When he attained a Prime's ranking he was free to follow his own ideals. I've overheard a few comments over the last couple of years suggesting a growing number of the younger nobles have followed his example. They are turning away from the traditional mould their parents expect them to fill. Now I'm not one hundred percent certain of this, but I think Kushrenada is supposed to be in law enforcement, or something like that. Security services, maybe?"

"Well, that might explain what he's doing at Tsuberov." Duo considered the men as they drew closer. "That would probably make the other two cops of some kind. I saw him and the Oriental together earlier so maybe he is Kushrenada's bodyguard? I'm pretty sure spunky buns is a government agent. All in all, it suggests we have a good deal more here than plumbing problems, eh?"

Quatre blinked. "Spunky buns?"

Zechs sniggered and indicated with an inclination of his head the group of men. "Chocolate-haired, a bit above medium height and looks to have some Oriental heritage in his pedigree."

"Ah." Quatre murmured. "I see. Duo has fallen in love again."

Duo snorted at his friends knowing tone. "Smile when you say that, Kitty Kat."

"A prank gone wrong is more than possible, perhaps even outright deliberate vandalism." Zechs suggested, attempting to turn the subject away from Duo's habit of appreciating a taunt butt. "Tsuberov would be discreet in any investigation no matter the cause."

"I still am suspicious we may have a kidnapping." Duo scowled at the chicken accompanying his salad. "Could we not find red meat, Quatre? Was there a decided lack of it in the cafeteria?"

"Would you have preferred to stand in line yourself?" Blue eyes sparked fire and his voice was deceptively quiet, a tone both of his roommates knew meant trouble.

"Ah, no. Chicken is good." Duo stuffed his mouth with the meat and chewed vigorously, pointedly ignoring the glare he received from the Winner heir.

"Good." Quatre purred. "I knew you would enjoy it."

Duo's attention wandered back to the four men and as unobtrusively as possible he focused his attention on the young man who had caught his eye.

"Man, that guy is hot."

Grinning Zechs licked a finger and touched it to Duo's forehead, making a 'Tssss' sound. Quatre chuckled as Duo whacked at the taller man.

"They all are." Quatre murmured.

"Damn, Kat, does Trowa have some competition?" Duo hooted, grinning.

"Never." Quatre winked. "I can still appreciate the scenery, you know."

"Yeah, yeah." Duo fastened his gaze on the taller blond in the group. "So, Zechsy, your being the only unattached male in the group, since I am now officially in love, which of the honeys gets your blood flowing? … And it had better not be my spunky buns."

Quatre sniggered and flapped a hand to dismiss Duo's glare before tucking back into his salad. For his part Zechs scowled and ignored the younger man.

"Awe, come on Zechsy, you have to admit they are very nice eye candy. Which one does it for you, hmm?"

"Leave it, Duo." Zechs breathed. "Let's just eat lunch and enjoy the respite from lessons, okay?"

"Nah, man, no way. Where is the fun in that? You won't let me play with conspiracy theories so I have to amuse myself somehow. Working up a profile of the ideal man for you to 'get some' sure does it for me!"

"Duo." There was a definite growl in the deep voice and a glint in crystal blue eyes that alerted Quatre to the wisdom of a change of subject.

"You know he's always been shy, Duo. Leave the man alone and enjoy yourself by perving on your personal favourite all you want."

Duo actually pouted, but the frown from the younger blonde was enough to warn him not to push. Still, he would not simply drop the subject. He enjoyed teasing the older man. Zechs so often left himself wide open that Duo simply could not resist when an opportunity came up. If occasionally he went too far Quatre was present to stop Zechs from strangling him with his own braid.

"I intend to. Perve on him, I mean, not leave our sexy, but solitary, Zechsy alone." Duo grinned at the scowling pair. "So which is it? You can't have the guy with chocolate hair and dreamy eyes, he's mine. I'm planning on marrying that one, so hands off his sexy arse. Now the small and…"

"Stop it, Maxwell." Zechs growled.

"… mysterious dark Oriental who moves like a dream…"

"Duo!" Quatre warned, sensing clearly the rising irritation in Zechs through his empathy. "Not wise, Duo."

"...or the elegant redhead with… such nice eyes." Duo smirked.

"I would not know what his eyes are like as I can't see them from here and neither can you." Zechs was flushed and there was clear warning in both his tone of voice and the set of his shoulders. "Leave it."

Zechs had always been a private person. He had been made fun of on too many occasions to take even friendly teasing well. Duo, always irrepressible, had a habit of all too often pushing that little bit too far. Quatre made hushing motions and groaned when Duo shrugged off the warnings and ploughed on.

"Why?"

"Because I asked you to leave it." Zechs grated through clenched teeth, glaring at his roommate.

Quatre inhaled sharply, blue eyes widening. Duo and Zechs were focused on each other, but he had been keeping an eye on their surroundings. He had watched as the group of men paused opposite their position, spoke for a moment and Otto inclined his head, stepping onto the lawn and headed directly for them.

"Ah, guys."

"Hey, I'm only curious." Duo rambled on. "You are one of the sexiest looking men at the Uni and you are never seen with anyone."

"Guys." Quatre sighed, reaching out to pull gently at Zech's arm.

"So? It is none of your business, Duo. What is it, Quatre?"

"It is so my business to see my friends hooked up, and not just with anybody you know." Duo resisted the urge to smirk. He loved winding Zechs up and the blond had a way of falling into it he simply had to exploit.

Quatre inclined his head indicating the approaching Security Officer and Zechs blanched, forgetting Duo in an instant. Unaware of the approaching doom Duo grinned, sensing an easy victory now that Quatre was so obviously on his side.

"So, which one, Zechsy?

"Being a nuisance again, Mr. Maxwell?"

The deep voice from such close proximity for the second time in an hour drew a quiet, "Shit. Otto. Ah, hi." A too wide and rather strained grin replaced the self satisfied smirk.

"Indeed, Mr. Maxwell. Otto. Mr. Merquise, a moment of your time, please."

"Damn. What have I done now?" Zechs clambered slowly to his feet.

It was so unfair to have to stand here and be raked over the coals for something he had no idea he had done wrong. It was bad enough to be lectured and taken to task in front of his friends, but for it to happen in front of someone who was so… so… 'gorgeous' and 'perfect' were the words that sprang to mind. Why did he have to be under the oak at this particular time and come to Otto's attention? Surely the man had more important things to do that berate him in front of important guests.

Otto motioned him away from his friends, who were watching with interest and no small amount of sympathy. "Over there if you will." He motioned toward the path in the general direction of the watching men.

"What have I done wrong?" His voice was barely above a whisper as he eyed Otto.

"Nothing to my knowledge, Mr. Merquise. A guest has expressed an interest in meeting you."

Blue eyes widened and flew to the three men standing on the edge of the lawn. "Me?" The single word emerged as a rather high-pitched squeak compared to his usual deep voice.

"You, Mr. Merquise." Otto chuckled.

"Why would anyone want a word with me? I… Who?"

Otto took the younger man's elbow, ignoring the whispers coming from behind them as Duo and Quatre speculated on this turn of events.

"Remember your position as a Tsubverov student." Otto whispered, hoping to steady frayed nerves by giving Zechs something more familiar to think about. "Mr. Kushrenada has requested a moment of your time."

His gaze was drawn instantly to the redhead who was slightly shorter, though more solidly built, than his own lanky frame, and who would outweigh him by a good margin. The man stood relaxed, flanked by the two shorter men and all three were watching him with open interest. Otto's hand to his upper arm was a welcome steadying sensation, as was the fact none of these men had thus far laughed at him.

He saw the darker of the two men, the Oriental Duo had speculated might be a bodyguard, glance at the Duke. His empathy caught a flash of irritation and impatience, and Zechs guessed the man considered there were more important things for them to be doing. The chocolate-haired individual, who had so struck Duo's fancy, seemed unconcerned. No flicker of emotion escaped him to give Zechs a clue as to his mood. He estimated these two men could be no more than one or two years his senior, three at the absolute most and he wondered how long they might have been employed by whatever government agency they worked for.

While the two men seemed not particularly interested in him, he could feel the intensity of Duke Kushrenada's gaze, and it was almost frightening. The man had a powerful personality and he sensed the rigid control employed to leash what he was sure was a vast wellspring of psychic talent. It was the very same control he despaired of attaining himself, the lack causing him to fear he would go insane beyond the shelter of the University's shielded grounds.

A light enquiring touch brushed against his shields. Not a probe or an assault designed to dominate him, rather more of a polite 'Hello'. He found himself immersed in startling sapphire blue. The world of Tsuberov's gardens, indeed his awareness of the world itself, faded into the background as Zechs fell into a world that tingled his toes.

It seemed the most natural thing in the world to permit this magnetic stranger past the tight barriers he maintained. Dimly, in the background of his mind, he could hear his instructor's voices as they sprouted endless lessons on the security required to maintain his sanity. Shields must never be lowered in unauthorized company. One did not lower one's shields to anyone without Tsuberov sanction. Lowering one's shields was simply not done. To forego this basic security was to threaten not only his sanity, but the sanity and well being of everyone in his immediate vicinity.

In short, to lower one's shield was a recipe for disaster.

The warmth emanating from those blue eyes was mesmerizing. The sheer power of this man's talent seemed to shimmer in his aura, and the touch of his mind in greeting was welcoming as he had never before experienced. Zechs knew he would be in trouble with his trainers, but he could not resist the allure of that warmth. He needed to feel more of the glow.

He dropped the shield separating his public mind and extended a hesitant, silent 'Hello'.

Warmth and a sensation his mind interpreted as spiced, hot chocolate blended with the flavour of liqueur chocolates enfolded him. The mental voice that touched his awareness was smooth, reminiscent of velvet and resonated warmth to his perceptions. It sent a flush of answering warmth and undeniable pleasure through him.

Quite simply, he had never experienced a touch like it.

'Thank you for the compliment of lowering your shield to me.'

Mixed with the warmth and the welcome of the contact was an undertone of genuine surprise and caution. He sensed the lowering of his shields was as unexpected to the Prime as it was to he himself. Zechs was certain he must be blushing, but faced with the slightest brush of that wonderful mind to his public mind, he could have done nothing else but welcome the contact. For so long he had maintained tight shields against everyone for fear of losing himself but here, he knew, he need not fear.

With this man his mind was safe.

'Hello.' He hated his own mental whisper, the hesitance at daring to extend to meet that warmth.

He felt incredibly inadequate and longed to run and hide at the same time as he wanted to bathe in the glow. How could he run from this wonderful presence? How could anyone want to run from him? It was so easy to bask in the glow, to luxuriate in the warmth of an intimacy no non-telepath could understand. To flee would be to lose the first hint of something he could not place a name to, even as he knew he had sought it for years.

This man was a professional psychic, a Prime, the best of the best in the dangerous field of empathic telepathy. What was more, he was sane. Treize Kushrenada was what Zechs could become if he followed Tsuberov's training schedule and managed to survive the outside world. After only a few weeks of living in that world during the tour, away from the security and shielding of Tsuberov, Zechs was afraid for his sanity. In the outside world there was so much input battering constantly at his shields, he had lived in constant fear of drowning in the onslaught. This man survived out there, in that other world, and by his presence gave Zechs hope he might overcome his fears and inadequacies and himself succeed.

"Duke Treize Kushrenada, Zechs Merquise." Otto kept one hand lightly in the centre of the young man's back, half expecting Zechs to bolt, unaware of the meeting of minds taking place.

"A pleasure." Treize purred with a brief nod, making no move to physically touch the other empathic telepath.

Zechs, like all others who shared their talent, would not welcome unnecessary touch. That the young man had not flinched from Otto's lingering touch demonstrated his trust of the Security Officer, but there was no such advantage of familiarity for Treize to draw on.

'I do hope you do not mind my requesting Otto to arrange for us to meet.' His thoughts lightly caressed the younger man's, projecting calming assurance mixed with confidence.

He was privately thrilled by the mental 'flavour' of the talent's mind and was aware of the dangers such a reaction could provoke, both in himself and the student, should he permit his private pleasure to be sensed. He had no intentions of making this contact anything but a polite greeting between Prime talent and soon to be Prime talent, and after this encounter there was no doubt in his mind Zechs Merquise would make that elite grade.

'I very much wanted to make the acquaintance of the next Prime in my own field while I have the opportunity. I must admit I like what I sense. You have a strong talent and a healthy dose of caution when around unfamiliar people. That will see you in good stead in later days.'

Only too aware he had taken the younger man off guard, and hoping to give him a moment in which to recover himself, Treize grinned at Otto. The Security Officer had narrowed his eyes and looked between the two telepathic empaths with a resigned expression. Treize knew he had guessed something was going on between them and was not particularly pleased by it.

"I do apologize, Otto. Zechs and I have taken the opportunity to say hello in our own, rather unique, fashion."

"Figured that." Otto sighed and looked to the blond. "Prime Kushrenada and his associates are a part of a consulting firm we have invited onto the estate. When he learned we had a burgeoning Prime he expressed an interest in meeting with you."

'So much more than merely an 'interest' in meeting you.' Treize slipped the thought to his counterpart with the mental impression of a wicked smile. 'I am hopeful some day we might, perhaps, have occasion to work together.'

Zechs clamped a firm control of his private mind, swallowing what he was sure would have been a gushed and entirely unprofessional response. He was damning himself for having such poor social graces and determined to pay more attention to the deportment and etiquette the instructors were continually forcing upon him. In hindsight, perhaps they had a valid point.

He was behaving as though he was a lovestruck groupie after a 'flavour of the month' pop star and that simply would not do. He was far too old for such idiocy. Why could he not remember anything of the lessons he had been taught since arriving at Tsuberov? He had moaned and groaned and griped at every opportunity about said lessons and now, when he needed them… Nothing. There was no way he could blurt out to this man of impeccable background and breeding that he would follow him to the ends of the earth simply because they had brushed minds.

How did he talk to him without gushing like a lunatic… and an immature lunatic at that?

"It is… a pleasure… to meet you, Sir." His tongue seemed to find barely adequate words to at least respond to the greeting in a polite and acceptable manner.

The more he tried to find the protocols he had been drilled in, the more fleeting they became. He wanted desperately to crawl into a shady nook somewhere and cringe until this bright beacon had gone, even as he never wanted to lose the contact. He could only wonder where and how he might see this man again and what he must do to gain the opportunity to work with him. Such might become his fondest dream and despite the harsher reality of his life and the benefactor who determined his future, the thought seeped through his shield into the space within his awareness he had opened to the Prime.

'Might we work together? How?'

'How? That remains to be seen in the future, but I have every hope it will happen.'

The response seemed to reverberate through him in what he felt, with every fiber of his being, was a true offering of friendship. This magnetic man, with the smile that seemed to brighten the sunlight, extended his thoughts with the lightest of touches, making the contact a pleasure and not a chore to be suffered through. Why was this contact, mind to mind, so different to past mental greetings he had experienced during Tsuberov training sessions?

He could all too clearly recall the pressure against his shields from the outer world when he had taken the trip to the colonies and the older, perhaps even deeper fear. The leftover fears and insecurities from the days when he had lived at the orphanage and run wild in the streets, until the day they had come for him. Coming to Tsuberov had meant changes, big changes which, he admitted, were a vast improvement over his wild days. On occasion he thought of himself as having been feral in those not so long ago years and he feared leaving Tsuberov might bring a recurrence of the past. He did not wish to lose the sanity Tsuberov had saved, nor the security he had found here for the unknown beyond its walls.

'You fear for the stability of your shield and the threat thus placed on your sanity beyond the protection of Tsuberov?' Treize sensed the fear, an echo of his own past fears and one shared by every high level telepath and empath that had ever drawn breath. 'Do not. It is fear itself which will drag you down into the darkness that is the nightmare of every Talent in our field. We all feel it, each and every one of us, and we keep each other sane. There is certainly the potential for a Prime talent in you and now that we know of you, we will not forget and leave you to the mercies of others.' Treize's mind touched the younger Psi's with full respect for the talent of an equal before he turned his attention to Otto.

He could plainly see the Security Officer was not particularly amused by their contact, or the fact they were sharing nonverbal communication. It no doubt violated more than one rule at Tsuberov, but who would gainsay a Prime Talent? Certainly not Otto, it seemed. Treize chose to ignore the narrow-eyed glower of his partner and Yuy's stoic expression and inclined his head to the Security Officer.

"I trust Mr. Merquise's terms of contract will be announced soon? I know of a number of departments and contacts who would welcome the chance to negotiate for a Prime's contract. In my line of work such rare talents are eagerly sought after and actively pursued."

Otto blinked, barely containing a gasp of surprise and eyed Zechs, who was looking wide-eyed at the redheaded Prime, as though he could not believe he had heard him correctly. Otto had a sinking feeling Treize Kushrenada was making an impression on Merquise that would not easily be changed. That was the problem with empathic telepaths, he reflected, they could generate an attraction it was nearly impossible to deny if they focused on you without even meaning to. Kushrenada, he was sure, would be aware of such a reaction and maintain safeguards against drawing the younger man into infatuation.

"I believe it is a little early for discussing contracts at this time. Zechs has not, as yet, completed his phase five studies."

'My contract?' Zechs was startled enough by the idea to question the Prime mind to mind, and he was thankful for the offered support that came through their contact.

He could not mistake the Prime's interest in the reason for his surprise and the unease Otto unknowingly was generating through his shield. Zechs was vaguely aware Otto was speaking, though he could not, for the life of him, say what was being said. The Oriental was glowering at the three of them with a brooding expression and his irritation was so intense it was fairly glowing.

'I know nothing of any contract, or contractual conditions, being drawn up for my consideration. I have not been consulted to date.'

'No? Ah, well, that is of no matter. No doubt contractual conditions will be considered as your evaluations progress. It is not wise to rush these matters after all.' Treize put a smile into the tone of his thoughts. 'One will have to look into the matter. I admit it would please me to be joined in my work by one of your talent. I think we would be able to work quite well together. Likewise any of the other Prime talents in our field would welcome you with open arms. Of course I consider my place of work to be the more interesting and always a challenge over the other Primes employment. Would you perhaps, like to learn more of what I do?'

He should say no. He should run as far and as fast from this man as his legs would take him, but those eyes… those eyes drew him and he wanted to fall deeper into the power of them. The mental touch against his own mind was an impression of warm velvet and seemed to offer so much that, as yet, he could not put a name to. Was this what it was to be in contact with a Prime Talent? Were they all like this, the other eight? Or was it just this wonderfully different individual who had decided to notice him?

'Yes.'

Oh, he should not have said that. As soon as he thought the affirmative he knew he was in the wrong and he could not help the flash of awareness, though he was quick to damp it down and hope the Prime had not caught his slip. He was a student on a set and rigid program and he knew his time was not his own. If he wanted to leave Tsuberov at the end of the year he needed to concentrate on his studies and perfect his training and there would be no time for anything else.

It was more than the constraints of time and a heavy schedule. He was at Tsuberov because someone was paying the bills for his training and as such it was not he who would decide his fate. His benefactor, the unknown body with the credits and influence to remain unknown, would have the final say on what he was to do with his life. It was not he who would decide his fate, but he wanted more of those blue eyes and that warm velvet mental voice.

It was wrong of him to bask in the glow of the other man's talent, but it was so unlike the other minds that had brushed his in the course of his training. He wanted more of this contact, even if it was only a few fleeting seconds. Beneath the weight of those sapphire eyes, and the glowing warmth of a powerful psychic talent, he knew he was noticed for who he was, not for what he was not.

Treize flicked his gaze to Otto and then back to the blonde, only too aware he was taking liberties. Chang was a positive furnace of irritation and he really must remind his partner to contain himself better around telepaths and especially empaths. He was also aware of how few people would suspect how his fellow Primes would react when he sent word of this bright gem he had found. He could not wait to contact them and tell them of this jewel who had remained unknown to them for so long. A deplorable situation. Someone of this talent should have been known to the Primes from the first evaluation of his talent and he would like answers as to why Zechs Merquise's potential had not been announced.

At the very least his talent would be that of a Prime level Empath and high in the level nine Telepathic ratings. Treize needed to be careful what he promised, as he strongly suspected someone was attempting to garner a Prime talent without following acceptable procedures. During their brief contact he had promised nothing more than to ensure the boy would not be forgotten, and he knew Zechs would not understand the true implications of that assurance.

Treize looked again to Otto and offered his best neutral smile even as he flicked his gaze to the student at his side, marking his interest clearly for Otto's reference. He strongly suspected he needed to mark his interest, not so much with the Security Officer, but through him to others who professed to pull the strings. He knew Otto would understand his tactic warning that Merquise was marked and would be watched by the nine Primes who had the most interest in his talent. He was not inclined to leave anything to chance, however, and for good measure he turned to the blonde and inclined his head formally.

"I shall be keeping my eye on Mr. Merquise's progress. It was a pleasure to meet you."

Treize wanted nothing more than to delve deeper into that enchanting warmth he sensed in the younger man, and explore the depths of his talent. He sensed a curious innocence mixed with an experience he found common to street urchins he had had occasion to touch minds with in the past. Merquise struck him as a most unusual young man whom he would, he admitted, like to know on a more personal, rather than professional, level. Much as he would like it, it was not to be contemplated. At least not until the young man had completed his education and was free to enter the world beyond the hot house environment of Tsuberov.

From the 'public' area of the young man's mind he sensed a sensitivity that explained Merquise's fear for his sanity on entering the wide world. He had no idea who had first realized the teenager had a burgeoning Psychic potential and had arranged for his admittance to the exclusive Tsuberov Institute, but that individual had saved the young man's sanity. Each Prime in their field had their own peculiar strengths and weaknesses and Zechs Merquise might possibly be the most sensitive of them all. That sensitivity meant he would require assistance from the other Primes in maintaining adequate shields. Whoever won the contract would be required to offer very particular shielding in his living and working environment to allow Merquise a sense of security on a purely mental level.

He wanted to ask questions concerning the training techniques employed at Tsuberov; to talk to the young man about his past and determine how it might have affected his talent's development. There was so much he needed to learn, not only to appease his own personal curiosity, but for the other Primes as well. They would require all the data he could gather the better to enable them to safeguard this man's sensitivity and sanity. It was unfortunate there was no time now to begin his assessment. He could feel Chang's uncertain temper and determined not to permit his partner's poor manners in the presence of empaths to distress the younger man.

Otto was emanating concern and rising worry and Treize shifted his weight a little, permitting him to unobtrusively follow the Security Officers line of sight. The Dean was approaching, quick stepping along the path and clearly intent on meeting with them. An older man was on his heels and he reminded Treize rather strongly of one of his least favourite great-uncles.

Otto's concern escaped the artificial rumblings of his shield and Treize was not inclined to expend the energy breaking through the shield would require to learn more. He sensed a genuine desire to care for the needs of the student and no anger in the Security Officer and determined he could safely leave the younger man to the Security Chief. It was not just the students from wealthy backgrounds Otto concerned himself with and his estimation of the man rose a favourable notch or two.

Extending a tendril of awareness toward the approaching men he could not mistake the concern emanating from the Dean. It was a mix of concern over a possible breach of etiquette on the part of the student mixed with concern something may have been noted about the events of the past few days. There was something else there, buried deeper but Treize was not inclined to investigate it further at this time. What he was sensing from the Dean was entirely understandable given the affair Treize was here to investigate. It was the older man who followed a few steps behind the Dean that aroused Treize's interest. The man seemed to be engaged in a rather astonishing bout of mental gymnastics over imagined slights and possible punishments which might put the irritating juvenile delinquent in his proper place.

Otto inclined his head respectfully to the Prime and gently nudged the student at his side to gain his attention.

"The Dean, Zechs, and Havers is close behind him." Otto murmured. "Head on back to the others and we'll distract him. Don't forget the assembly and see if you can't contain that maniac Maxwell for a while."

Treize had the distinct, and not particularly pleasant, impression the young man had had a bucket of ice water thrown over him. His shield snapped closed into a crystalline solidity Treize found astonishing given the telepathic empath's fears for his sanity. His head snapped around to take in the approaching men and Zechs blanched, losing much of his colour as he focused on the man in the rear.

"God. Thanks, Otto."

Eager as he suddenly was to make himself scarce Zechs could not help one last, hopeful, look at the man who actually wanted to talk to him. Mind to mind could not lie. Treize Kushrenada had displayed genuine interest in him and had offered him sage advice in preparing to enter the wider world beyond Tsuberov. He would have liked more time to speak with the man, or simply to luxuriate in the empathic warmth he generated. He was not inclined to give Professor Havers any excuse to make his life a misery and discretion was certainly the better part of valour in this particular instance.

"It was nice to meet you." A verbal offered farewell and each word was laced with an underlying empathic hope they might meet again.

He knew the Prime would have no difficulty in detecting the empathic undertones and politely inclined his head to the other men and was quick to retreat toward his friends. He could not say he was sorry to leave the presence of the Oriental who so clearly disapproved of him, without even knowing him, but he was accustomed to that reaction. Every step he took toward his friends he was aware of those sapphire eyes and the leashed power behind them, lingering on him, though no further attempt was made to contact him.

"What was that all about?"

Duo fairly pounced on him as he collapsed onto the ground beside them, generating insatiable curiosity and Zechs sighed. The more he explained to Duo the more the Sweeper would want to know. Looking over his shoulder he found the Dean had joined the other men and Professor Havers was standing a little apart, the obnoxious man glaring at him across the expanse of the lawn. At least the Dean was not giving him hostile looks and he was hopeful he had not exactly disgraced Tsuberov.

"Well? What did the sexy redhead want, Zechsy? From here it looked like Otto introduced you specifically to him." Duo bounced closer, grasping his arm and tried again to garner a response.

"He…" Floundering suddenly Zechs wondered what it was the Prime actually had wanted from him.

He did not originate from an important family and hailed from a less than exemplary background. Just what did the Prime find of interest about him? Yes, he had psychic potential but he was uncertain about his own abilities and afraid of the outside world he used to seek as an escape from the orphanage. He confused himself so what chance had a perfect stranger of understanding him?

"Zechs?" Duo calmed a little, sensing the confusion of his friend and gaining better control of his curiosity.

He had been told so many times to contain his emotions around both Zechs and Quatre, but his naturally effervescent personality saw him constantly ignoring etiquette. He had heard himself described as being constantly 'in your face' and a 'live wire' and 'the life of the party', even when there was no party.

"He wanted to say hello." Zechs met Duo's blue-violet gaze with a faintly bewildered expression.

"He wanted to say hello?" Duo waited for enlightenment, but Zechs seemed content to sit and stare at him while he absently twisted a lock of platinum hair around his fingers. "That was it? Just hello?" Duo looked over at the group of men with Professor Havers hovering on the fringe. "Why?"

/Good question. It is a pity I can't answer it./ Zechs mused.

He could only shrug and try not to look back to the group, knowing if he did so the professor he most wanted to avoid would still be glaring at him. Unfortunately he still had lessons with Professor Havers and he did not need any further trouble with the man.

He was aware of the tight shield Quatre had been maintaining since he had rejoined his friends, but Duo's demand for his attention had sidetracked him. Now he felt a sharp spike of what had to be elation from the Winner and Quatre fairly bounced in place.

"Yes!" Quatre looked triumphant and grinned widely, looking suspiciously like a cat who had stolen the cream.

"Quatre?" Zechs questioned, uncertain what had so pleased his friend.

"Why did he want to talk to you Zechs, it had to be more than saying hello. Are you okay, Kitty Kat? You look like you are about to start dancing."

"I don't know why he wanted to see me, Duo. He just did." Zechs murmured, eyeing Quatre with some trepidation at his antics and the grin that seemed frozen in place whenever Quatre looked at him. "What?"

"Hey, Quatre, you are starting to freak me out here." Duo twisted the end of his braid. "What gives, huh?"

"The Duke wanted to meet Zechs because he's a Prime and Zechs is going to be a Prime." Quatre crowed, rubbing his hands together in obvious glee. "I told you, why don't you listen? Prime level telepathic empaths are so rare it's almost a cause to have a public holiday when one is found sane. You will make only the tenth functioning individual with that degree of talent in the entire Earth Sphere."

"I've heard it before, but I still have to make the grade, Quatre."

"Now that Duke Kushrenada has met you, you can be sure the other eight Primes will be informed of his assessment of your abilities." Quatre continued, ignoring the older man's comment. "It is more than possible each one will want to meet you at some stage in your development through this final training period. It is rather an exclusive club you will become a part of, and their employers are always on the lookout for extra talent to relieve the load on their staff. Not to mention other corporations and departments in the government are desperate to have the services of a Prime."

"Look, I have to finish my training and graduate with a Prime ranking before anyone can get excited about there being a tenth E and T Prime. I still have the hardest part of that training ahead of me and to be honest, Quatre, I am not so confident I will make the grade."

Duo snorted and waved a hand in the air, indicating clearly enough what he thought of that statement.

Quatre merely smirked. "I am supremely confident in your abilities, even if you are not, so get over your stage fright, would you. My confidence is based on the comments and confidence of the teaching staff attending to your instruction and no, I am not going to reveal how I know what they think. Suffice it to say I am the Winner Heir and I have it on the very best authority you will undoubtedly succeed. So don't even consider disappointing me."

Zechs sighed softly and subsided. He had seen this side of Quatre too many times before to mistake it. The Winner heir would go his merry way, as usual, and there was nothing he could do that would have a chance of changing Quatre's mind. He looked to Duo who grinned wickedly at him and shrugged, unwilling to disagree with either of them and motioned to the cluster of men.

"Did Otto introduce you to the others? Did he say who spunky buns is?"

"No." Zechs rested his head on his knees, defeated and closed his eyes against the sight of the world which seemed to be encroaching on him more and more. "No one introduced me to Spunky Buns." Some days he had to wonder if he was rooming with sane people and if he should just give in to the insanity.

"Prime level empathic telepaths are so rare it takes up to five telepaths and empaths above level six ; sometimes more, to do the work of one Prime. With Prime Kushrenada here at Tsuberov I don't think it will take long before word circulates there is a tenth Prime coming up for contract." Quatre continued, ignoring the discourse between his roommates and his grin turned positively feral. "Your benefactor will have hell's own job fixing your contract so it cannot go public."

Quatre was plainly delighted with the turn of events and tucked into his salad with gusto. As far as he was concerned, today had developed into one of the better days he had had the pleasure of experiencing. Not only had he managed to escape at least a half a day's lessons he normally would have suffered through, he had also managed to witness what he was sure was the beginning of a change of circumstances for his blonde friend.

The mysterious benefactor who paid for the exclusive and expensive tuition Zechs underwent had been worrying Quatre. He had, on more than one occasion, considered the wisdom of approaching his father over the matter. With this fortuitous change of circumstances it seemed he might not need to take that step.

It was, without doubt, a wonderful day.

t.b.c.

Karina Robertson 2007

Duo Maxwell: Psi Student , 3rd year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Level 8 Psychokinetic ability, projected level 9. Sending Telepath Level 5. Colony of Origin L2 Cluster 18 years of age Sweeper adoptee. Under pre contract agreement with Sweepers.

Zechs Marquise: Psi Student 5th year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Level 10 Receiving/Projecting Empath approaching Prime Designation + Level 9 Sending /Receiving Telepath, Projected L10 function. Finder function suspected, not officially registered. Country of origin, Luxemburg. 20 years of age

Quatre Rababer Winner: Psi student, 2nd year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Current Level 5 Telepath, projected Level 7, Current Level Receiving Empath 9.3, projected Level 10, Prime. Current Sending Empath Level 2, projected Level 4. Colony of Origin, L4 Cluster 18 years of age

Treize Kushrenada : Level 10 Sending/Receiving Telepath + Receiving and Projecting Empath at Level 10. Prime rated. Agency Operative contracted term of 5 years with 2 years remaining. 25yrs of age Training facility: Psychic Institute Munich Division.

Chang Wu Fei: Level 9 Telekinetic + Receiving Telepath Level 5. Agency Operative contracted term of 10 years with 8 years remaining, 22yrs of age Training facility:Psychic Institute Luxemburg Division.

Heinrich Otto: Tsuberov University Security Chief. No Psionic talent. Staff Member at Tsuberov for five years. Fitted with a Neural shield implant against telepathic intrusion. Former employment, Sanc Imperial Guard. 35 years of age.

Dean Alexander Hargraves: Dean at Tsuberov University and Parapsychic Institute. Neural Implant. Sending / Receiving Telepath Level 3


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

Their meeting had been, without a doubt, a pleasure.

From the first mention of Zechs Merquise and his talent at the briefing the day before Treize had hoped, but never really believed, he might gain the opportunity to speak with the budding Prime talent Tsuberov was training. He could say, without hesitation after meeting Merquise, he liked what he sensed of the shy student. The clarity and strength he had detected in the young man's talent during their brief contact were matched only by his innocence, which was a curiosity in itself. No street kid should hold that unspoiled innocence; an untouched quality that was refreshing.

Still, one should, he decided, keep an open mind and remember the briefing he had been given. Merquise was not exactly a street waif, after all. The child then teenager, prior to coming to Tsuberov's elite halls, had been resident in an orphanage. While he had periodically escaped the establishment to roam and live on the streets of the city for weeks on end, he had not actually been a permanent resident of the city's slum district.

With the extent of his psychic talent, and given his wayward nature, Merquise could all too easily have become mentally unbalanced. It was good fortune, Treize was sure, which saw him escape that pitfall of his empathic telepathy. The downside of the city was not a pleasant place for a high level empath as Treize, given his line of work, could testify.

After this first contact, superficial as it had been, he knew the intricacies of Merquise's nature would take a great deal of time to explore.

At the first convenient moment he would take the time to send his initial impressions of the young man to his fellow Primes. Each and every one of them would be waiting to learn all they could of Merquise, beyond the extent of his educational standing and psychic talents evaluation. They would be relying on him and his impressions to give them the chance to consider how best to enfold Merquise into their family.

They were a family, the few who had managed to stay sane, despite the acute sensitivity of their psychic talent.

He had found more common ground amid the select Prime's circle than he shared with his blood relations. Each of them understood what it was to live locked behind shields for fear of insanity. Humans were social creatures and, with rare exceptions, invariably sought out others of their own kind. To be forced to keep a shield between oneself and the rest of humanity was no easy feat.

Physically and psychologically, humans craved to be touched and Empathic Telepaths were, despite some derogatory comments, all too human. Their talent wanted contact with others and the Primes and high level empaths craved to be bathed in the ebb and flow of emotion. Constantly keeping barriers in place was draining and left one with a real sense of segregation. Enforced isolation had never been good for the human spirit.

He suspected when Zechs Merquise had been an emergent psi he had craved the raw emotion to be found on the streets. Undoubtedly he would have needed to run periodically to the relatively quieter and safer halls of the orphanage, before his then erratic talent could overindulge and burn him out, or send him into screaming hysterics. All too often the human individual sought out the very thing that could kill or maim. With extreme mental sensitivity it was insanity that was the more common fate, though deaths had been attributed to the condition.

It would please the other Primes to share his impressions of the young talent, and in no small way would it please him to no longer be dubbed the baby of the group. That would amuse the other, older talents, when they read it from him, but since it was the truth he did not mind. There was not so many years separating him from Merquise in age, but even a few months would be sufficient to earn him the distinction of being older, and therefore not the youngest of their number to be coddled.

Merquise could well do with a little coddling, from what he sensed.

Not that he could complain about the other Primes keeping their collective 'ears' out for him. In the early days, after his studies and subsequent defiance from his family, their touch had been more than welcomed. Their presence in his awareness assured him he was not alone, and should he require assistance with the sensitivities of his talent, they would be there. Their presence was a welcome glow of warmth within his mind, day and night, and it was something he doubted he could give up. For life he was bound to them and happy to be so bonded.

It was one of the reasons he was so conscious of the state of his shields. If he did not take action to correct his current circumstances, the other Primes assuredly would. He knew what their reaction would be to his work schedule, and to the current delicate state of his shields, and no one in their right mind would want Gabriella on the war path. He loved the Gypsy Prime dearly, but she could be an unholy terror, and he was not inclined to draw her wrath needlessly.

It would be Gabriella who would come to investigate his circumstances and set matters to rights, of that he had no doubt. She had been the one to ensure he escaped the coils of his family to take his place as a Prime, free of familial chains, and able to choose where he took contract.

Merquise's hope to escape the distinction of being the baby of the Primes would be if Quatre Winner should mature to take a place amid their select group, or if another should emerge with adequate talent. If Winner's full telepathic function could be aroused and shaped to equal his already Prime level empathy, he would take his place amidst their elite group. Only then would Merquise be lucky enough to escape the well meaning babying of the older Primes. Treize, however, personally doubted Quatre would ever escape the life sentence awaiting him with Winner Enterprises.

/It is what had been intended for me, to become the corner stone of the family business and devote my life to developing it. I am doubtful Quatre could escape his conscience and training to center his life on Winner Enterprises. I'd say they conditioned him to the point he will never be free of it./

He did not envy Quatre Winner the trap encircling him. It was even doubtful he would be employed at Winner Enterprises as a Prime in his field. Admittedly he was being trained to the highest standards of psi talent, but for what purpose? Whose will would he be serving in that position? And it was doubtful they would simply forget his abilities. Quatre would be expected to milk the greatest advantage from the use of his talent to further the ambitions of the company.

His attention was dragged back to the conversation taking place around him at the Dean's attention focusing on him, and the expectation leaking through the man's shields. The Master's invitation for them to lunch with him and his teaching staff was not altogether unexpected, but Treize was not inclined to accept. In polite society it would be considered bad form to refuse the courtesy, however this was more than simply polite society they were dealing with.

He was a part of a working team, and while he might be more than aware of the correct form one should employ when dealing with such people, he could not forget they had a great deal of work to accomplish. He was, however, all too aware of the energy he had expended during his sensing of the suite, and the very real need to replace the calories used.

It had been their intention to return to the Security Office and review a new batch of video footage taken from around the dormitory and surrounding grounds, as well as review with Otto what they had gleaned thus far in the case. He had been under the impression they would eat while they watched the footage, and he was loathe to delay their itinerary any longer than they needed to.

Chang stirred, meeting his eyes and reading his reluctance to accept the invitation. He could see Wu Fei was as reluctant as he to join the teaching staff and he chose to leave the matter to Chang. His partner had a blunt but polite manner about him, which tended to put off people from protesting a refusal. He took the opportunity to shift his weight and gain a clear view of Merquise as he rejoined his companions. The braided Sweeper practically dragged the tall blonde down to sit beside him and Treize resisted the impulse to smile. He heard Chang's polite refusal to dine at this time, given the tight time schedule they were required to keep.

In fact, they did have a tight schedule. They were slated to meet with the Agencies forensic team to supervise and monitor the removal of certain marked items from the ruined suite for further investigation. Yuy and his people had agreed to have the Agency psychics further investigating some of the remnants of the suite under controlled conditions, and they had wasted no time in arranging for a forensic unit to be prepared and dispatched.

The reminder of the events of the night and the crime scene visibly disturbed the Dean, who assured them he understood perfectly the needs of the situation. He appeared unaware of the Professor who stood a little behind him, and seemed to hang on every word. Otto glared his displeasure and the Professor stepped back a little, contenting himself with staring in the direction of the students beneath the oak.

/You are a particularly sour individual and your psychic flavour is quite oily. Heavy./ Treize mused. /Not a Talent, but you are insecure enough to have yourself fitted with a neural implant. I know your sort and I am surprised to find you at a place such as Tsuberov. No doubt you know your subject, but you strike me as being rather a pain to deal with. I gather the Master of the University is not particularly enamoured of you, but why has he not told you, in polite terms, to find someone else to shadow?/

Indeed the Dean seemed set on ignoring the Professor's presence as he made his farewells, stating he needed to get on as there was an assembly to be attended following lunch and time was, indeed, marching on. With the Professor clinging to his steps like a limpet, Hargraves made his way toward the main hub of the University buildings and lunch with his staff.

Otto sighed heavily and put in a call to the cafeteria, increasing his order to be delivered to the Security Office. Clipping the radio to his belt he scowled at the two men almost out of sight and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I find I eat more than I should after dealing with fools and I've been forced to sit through one of Havers pet speeches already this morning. Lunch won't be flash, but the cafeteria does make an excellent club sandwich. The food here is designed with the calorie needs of high talent Psis in mind." Otto murmured as they resumed their course for the Security Centre. "No doubt after the work you performed this morning, you would be in need of a decent meal."

"I am certain the food here is excellent." Yuy murmured diplomatically. "We have barely an hour before the forensic team will be prepared to package and move the evidence."

"By the time we get ourselves settled lunch will have arrived." Otto assured him.

"Who is that rather obnoxious individual?" Treize scowled, turning his attention from Otto to the three students, before fixing his gaze on the approaching Security Offices.

"Professor Simon Havers. He is the head of the Mechanical Engineering Department. He has three books under his belt on the successful design of Colony architecture and teaches a number of classes here. He has no measurable psychic talent and is paranoid about psychics. Specifically telepaths. They are all employed to pick the secrets out of his head for use by his competitors." Otto grimaced. "He's a bit of a nutcase but mostly harmless."

"He appears to have a problem with one or more of the three young men behind us, now enjoying lunch." Treize prodded gently for information.

"Merquise being the chief problem, in the Professor's opinion. Their first meeting did not go well. I believe Merquise ended up calling him a 'piece of stinking dried-up dog dung' and deemed him incapable of surviving in the real world. Events have progressed steadily downhill since then. Unfortunately Mr. Maxwell also appears to have a pet dislike for the Professor, though I believe he likened him to an 'anorexic yeti'." Otto sighed but Treize caught the glint in his eye and guessed Otto's opinion of the Professor was equally low. "Both students have classes in the department and are expected to conduct themselves in a manner befitting Tsuberov's status."

"He appears to have become attached to the Master's shadow." Wu Fei observed.

"Professor Havers is not the bravest individual at Tsuberov and undoubtedly feels it is safest closest to the Dean."

Yuy watched a cluster of giggling young female students run around the corner of the building, stop in their tracks on sight of Otto and with a smart-about face, make themselves scarce.

"Can we expect interruptions during the removal of evidence?"

"The majority of classes will have resumed in an hour, and the assembly should be underway by the time the team arrives and are ready for you." Otto returned. "Although from the reports I have been receiving from my staff about what is happening in the canteen and at the cafeteria, there may be no other option than to extend the lunch break for the senior students. By mid-afternoon we should have the routine restored to order, and the displaced students's reassigned quarters. There should not be many students lingering outside and those that are should all be seniors, who know where they should not be."

/But there will be some./ Treize mused. /When you least want witnesses you can guarantee there will be people around./

000000000000000000000000000

Pain.

Crawling along his nerves, creeping through his head, shooting tendrils of lightning throughout his body.

Pain must be ignored.

"_The awakening pain must be experienced and endured in order to advance." _

/Where is HE?/

Pain. Light pierced his eyes unkindly, spearing into his brain and generating more pain. A different kind of pain that combined with the lightning to burn him to a cinder. Not even the darkest wrap around glasses could spare him the light's effects.

Pain was insidious, crawling from every pore of his being, threatening to overpower him, to defeat him… and he could not be defeated. Would not be defeated.

He was better than the pain… Greater… Stronger.

It would be easier to deal with this pain if he did not feel the fear and worry.

/Where have they taken him? Where has he gone?/

Fear grew persistently, feeding from itself until it equalled the pain. Fear distracted him from the control he needed to maintain mastery. Fear equated to loss of control, which equated to pain, which in turn birthed fear in a never ending cycle.

Fear made each breath a living hell.

Everything good in his world had fallen to ruin.

His great expectation, his delight; his longing and desire to see perfection… had all come to nothing. Such expectation he had enjoyed.

He was gone.

Long fingers curved tightly about the bottle nestled within the pocket of his jacket. The pain was too much and he was nearly out and he must get more. The pills made the agony almost bearable. The pills would ease the knives stabbing at his skull and gain him some peace.

/Where? Why was he not there? He should have been there! He was supposed to be there./ The last thought a silent sob of anguish.

His heart's desire should have been there for him to view. To admire, to savour… to adore. The longing to worship His beauty had been growing unbearable during his long absence. To find Him gone from that safe haven when finally he had returned home…

He should have been there. The longing should have been replaced with the unspeakable pleasure of viewing His perfection.

He should have been filled with ecstasy… and instead there was all consuming pain.

/I must find HIM./

The light pierced his skull and he pressed himself deeper into the shadows, seeking to escape the stabbing brightness without actually moving. He was desperate to take another pill, to blunt the pain, to give himself some relief- but there were limits he must observe. He had already taken his quota and to take more would be to step over the safety margins drilled into him.

"_It will kill to exceed the recommended dosage. You must be aware of the dangers at all times_."

Despite his best intentions to stay and learn what had happened he would be driven away by the pain. The light would drive him, force him to a blessedly dark shelter, but he ached to linger, seeking the one who made the hell of his existence worth living.

Pain almost blinded his sight with electric discharges behind his eyes, spearing into his temples, grinding into the base of his skull. He must persevere, watch the strangers who trespassed on his territory and learn what they were about. The unaccustomed activity surrounding the dormitory forced him away, depriving him of the opportunity to seek out his usual haunts. He would need to go, to escape the light and soothe the pain, but if he lingered just a little longer he might yet catch a glimpse of Him.

Something terrible had happened. Something terrible had happened to HIM.

Who were these strangers who kept him from his safe, dark space? Why did they crawl like ants through a disturbed nest?

HE had vanished. HE had not been in his room, tucked safely into bed.

Was that why these strangers were present? Was that why they were here, disrupting the routine he found soothing? Did they seek the missing one he must find? Were they enemy or friend? He was blind to their thoughts with this pain and helpless to learn their plans.

Were they, He who must be adored and his friends, only late returning from their trip? Was that all that had gone wrong? Why, on the very night he had gathered his courage to touch the perfect beauty of HIM, had He not been there?

His hands were shaking and his throat parched. He ached in every fiber of his being and his head was pounding with his wildly beating pulse. He must rest. The pain was such that he could not still the tears further blurring his vision… which in turn set alight trails of fire.

Pain was insignificant against his terror.

HE must be found. Found and returned to his rightful place that He might be viewed and adored and protected.

Eyes closed he rubbed his cheek against the velvet softness of the dark red rose. His fingers trembled as he traced the perfect petals, one by one, and his nostrils flared as he drank in the heady perfume.

The roses were for Him.

Perfect roses, the darkest red, richly scented. A pale token of his undying affection. How could he see that his gift was received if he could not find HIM?

Ah, but the pain.

There was so much pain, but he had felt it's like before. It would go. With time. The pain had been bad before, when the awakening had first begun and he had thought his head must explode with it. But it had gone and left him in peace to admire the beauty of the world as he had not known it before. To see the beauty of the light surrounding Him and awaken the desire deep within, to know that beauty day and night.

It would ease.

He would seek the darkness and to sleep away the pain. Rest.

Sleep would help soothe his pain, and with it gone he would be free to find HIM and this time… Ah, this time, he would ensure his gifts were received.

When the pain left him he would ensure they had time together and he would stroke that fine jaw, kiss those lovely lips, admire the fire in perfect blue eyes. He would ensure they met and touched and… and… yes, he would touch and he could touch. He had the right to admire with his hands as much as his eyes… and worship Him with his lips…

The pain would fade and when it was gone he would set all to rights.

000000000000000000000000000

All in all the day had been particularly dissatisfying.

When he had woken this morning he had been looking forward to seeing his special friend. They had a few shared classes and one of those classes was scheduled to take place that morning. He had thought they might even enjoy a shared lunch. It had come as a blow to find Quatre missing from his class, though it was something of a relief other students from the same dorm building were also absent.

Following class he had made for the cafeteria, hoping to find his friend and had been unprepared for the chaos that had once been an orderly, well-managed rotation system. The enjoyable, relaxed lunch he had been looking forward to had been anything but, and to compound matters there had been neither sight nor sound of Quatre.

Trowa Barton sighed softly and rested back against the solid trunk of the tree, watching with fascination, though no real interest, the comings and goings from the dormitory block. News of plumbing problems had filtered through the university quickly once the student body had begun to circulate, though no one could say with any certainty exactly what had occurred. Whatever it was, it was sufficient to throw the well-managed mechanics of the institute into chaos.

He bit into the high protein burger he had chosen for lunch to make as speedy a transition through the canteen as possible, chewing with relish. The only good thing he could think about eating alone, and being hidden from casual sight, was that he could make a reasonable pig of himself and take healthy bites instead of nibbling at his lunch. Picking dropped bits of salad and bun from the front of his shirt, he considered the disaster his day had become with no expenditure of effort on his part.

He had been more than disappointed not to see Quatre. He had been looking forward to the return to classes purely and simply to be with his friend once again. He grimaced at the thought. Friend. Special friend. Such words hardly described what he felt for Quatre Winner, but that was as far as he could see their relationship going, given Quatre's circumstances.

Over the break he had spent time with his family and he had enjoyed the visit, particularly the antics of his young cousin. The little redhead had regaled him with amusing anecdotes about family since his last sojourn at home. She was a delight to have around and he had not needed to pay more than lip service to the family patriarch and oldsters, who were far too busy to be concerned with a lesser cousin.

Seeing Quatre again had been what he looked forward to and he had known Quatre had not been looking forward to their parting, for all he wished to see his family. Before leaving Quatre had expressed a wish he might approach his family over where his emotions were focused and how they had grown from simple friendship to something totally different.

Trowa was fairly sure his own familial connections would not have cared if he had announced he desired to take a male lover. At least, given his young cousin's existence, he hoped they would not have protested. In fact, given the identity of the one he desired, the Barton Patriarch might well have been all for the notion.

Dekim Barton was always seeking advantageous opportunities.

Trowa was convinced it would be the Winner connection that would be the barrier to he and Quatre taking that giant step from closer than close friends, to lovers. The Winners were, after all, of Arabic descent and were Muslim, which was one of the few religions in these enlightened times not to have relaxed its attitude towards homosexual liaisons.

Even today, scientific evidence determined more than a hundred years before was discounted by the Muslim-dominated nations. The genetic mapping of the human body had identified sexual orientation was determined by the select placement of certain specific genes. Set combinations of the genes of an individual would determine if they were homosexual, heterosexual or bisexual. Some of the more moderate religions had accepted the evidence relatively quickly, but the older and more rigid churches had resisted. Some still forbade any same sex relationships, making such liaisons an unforgivable sin.

Given the Winners' L4 origins and their faith, Trowa was relatively certain what his chances of developing his association with Quatre beyond friendship would be. He was the Winner Heir and he would be absorbed into the family business with all speed as soon as his training was complete.

He would be thankful for the time they shared together and take every opportunity to savour it. He had looked forward to the tour of the colonies coming to an end for that very reason, but fortune had not favoured him. He had had no opportunity to find Quatre, nor so much as glimpse him from afar.

It was not as though it was the end of the world. There was still the remainder of the day and tomorrow and the day after…

/I'm pathetic./

Pathetic but in love. He shied from the admission, even though there were no witnesses. He had admitted to himself there was no future and he sought out distraction, unhappily aware he could go nowhere with his admission.

His thoughts of his liaison with Quatre faded as he bit into the burger and shifted his seat, leaning forward a little and to one side to watch the clean up taking place. From his perch in the oak tree growing alongside the dormitory building he had a reasonably unobstructed view of the assortment of broken and battered furnishings and general debris exiting the building.

What struck him as being curious enough to distract him from his contemplations, was the removalists method of packing. Larger pieces were wrapped in clear plastic and smaller items were packaged in an assortment of plastic bags. There appeared to be a steady stream of individuals laden with these plastic wrapped items issuing from the dorm.

Scratching the bridge of his nose slowly, a certain sign Trowa was deep in thought, his green eyes wandered from the steps fronting the dorm to the large black van the items were being stacked into. Moving van? His first assessment of what was taking place was discounted as he considered the vehicle. After a long, drawn out look, taking in the sheer size of the truck and the absence of a company insignia, his eyes slipped back to the people manhandling the objects.

They were not dressed in overalls, but in what he might have considered calling clean suits. That was not so unusual, he had watched certain relations moving in and out of the Barton main house often enough to know they wanted their goods handled in a particular manner. These people were covered in the white coveralls, hoods up and hands gloved. It was the boots in disposable water stained covers that convinced him he was not watching a cleanup crew employed to remove furniture.

/I wonder what really went on last night? Quatre might know, but where might I find him to ask?/

The sheer volume of damage told the lie for what it was. Plumbing problems did not pulverize a three seater couch, or turn a table into firewood. The furniture he could see was wet, there was no mistaking the moisture common to all the debris carried from the building. Some of the plastic bags even had pools of water forming in the base.

Finishing off his burger he edged his way along the branch to gain a clearer view, clinging tightly to the limb of the tree and peering through the foliage.

Staring at one particular bundle of plastic being carried to the van, he could see the bag was labelled and he thought the contents might have been tagged. Sitting back carefully he considered the three men following the first, each carrying a similar bundle. Each of the men moved with precision and without hesitation, entering the van in turn. He could see one placing his bundle securely into a pouch which was the exact size to comfortably fit the package. The pouch was suspended from a shelf and rack secured to the side of the van. The operative moved to a laptop set up near the doors, made an entry and jumped down, returning to the dorm. Trowa watched as each man stowed their bundles, made an entry into the laptop and followed the first into the building.

/Okay, they are not movers./ He had watched plenty of crime and investigation shows on television and he had little doubt what he was witnessing. /That has to be a professional forensic unit taking evidence from a crime scene. What the heck happened here last night? Is Quatre okay?/

If the dormitory block was considered to be unsafe the students living here would be given alternative accommodation and he wondered where Quatre would be moved to. He had chanced to overhear two teachers commenting on a projected time scale of up to four days before the building would be deemed habitable, though after seeing the amount of wreckage being moved he had to wonder about that assessment.

/Well, I don't know what happened but it was more than just a leaky pipe or two. I guess I know why they waited this long to remove the mess. They would not have wanted too many people witnessing the extent of the damage. I think it pretty obvious we have a vandal on the grounds. Tsuberov's Board of Governors won't like this at all./

With a low sigh he edged backwards, along the length of the limb, and worked his way into the fork of the tree, settling himself comfortably to work. Assured the use of his talent would not send him plummeting from his perch he took a few moments to measure his breathing and prepare. Picturing himself within a safe and warm cocoon he isolated himself from the noises of movement and the murmur of voices taking place nearby.

Recently in his studies he had learned to extend out beyond what he had thought would be his maximum range. His Long Ear talent enabled him to hear vocal conversations without the speakers being aware they were audible to any listener. At the time of his entry to Tsuberov he had had a maximum range of barely three meters. Under Tsuberov's guidance over the past two years his range had extended to over a kilometer.

He had perfected the skill of recognizing specific voices and tuning out unwanted noise, including the voices of other people surrounding his target. Now he sought one specific voice, the voice of the one he wished he could make his lover. He knew every inflection, every emotion that voice could convey. He had no doubt if Quatre was speaking he would detect the young man, provided he was within range.

"… rowa? Trowa? I don't know where you are, but I hope you are free to listen out for me. I'll try again to reach you in a half hour or so and send you a text message at the first opportunity. I so wanted to see you, Trowa but the day has been far from cooperative. I guess you have heard about… No, Duo, I'm not talking to myself. Hush will you, I'm talking to Trowa."

Trowa smirked. Trust Maxwell to interrupt a private conversation. He knew Quatre would be whispering, trying not to attract attention but Duo Maxwell had a way of interrupting even the most private conversations.

"No, Duo, I don't know if Trowa will have his 'ear' listening but I can hope, okay? Now hush up and let me talk."

The smirk became a quiet snicker and Trowa leaned back, resting his head against the tree trunk. /You tell him, lover. He'll get you back later for telling him to shut up though./

"Trowa, I hope you are listening. Something happened in the dorms overnight and we are being moved around the University grounds and … What? Oh, well I can talk as we go. Thanks Duo. I'm going to be moved to a hotel off campus for a few days, Trowa. I can't say for certain how long we will need to stay there, but we have been assured we will be back in regular classes tomorrow. I don't know if they will give us time to meet on the grounds between or after classes. I was so looking forward to seeing you again. I miss you."

A smile curved the green eyed youth's lips and he was glad there was no one around to witness his undoubtedly sappy look. The whisper might have been uttered on the far side of the University, though he suspected Quatre must be somewhere in the main cluster of buildings. His Long Ear was a useful ability and one that was sufficiently strong to permit him good prospects in the future. When his training was complete and it was time for his contract to be evaluated and finalized, he could expect a lucrative and interesting position as Clairaudient talents were not the most common of Psi's.

Law enforcement agencies, insurance companies and politicians would all be interested in acquiring a powerful clairaudient talent. Private business concerns and upmarket private detective agencies might also be interested in his skills, and there was always the Government Agencies to be considered.

He had a longer than average range on his 'ear' and since he had met the Winner heir, and marked him as special on a very personal level, he had trained himself to listen for Quatre's distinctive voice. Whether shouting from a rooftop or whispering endearments to the wind, his ability had permitted them to arrange discreet meetings on more than one occasion. Their differing timetables would normally give them little opportunity to see each other and every stolen moment was to be treasured.

"Yes, Duo, I know all that and… where has Zechs wandered off to?"

Withdrawing his contact he recalled his awareness to the warmth of the cocoon he had created within his own mind. His body would be drawing slow and deep breaths now and he sought out that inhale and exhale reflex, taking his awareness up through the layers with the inhale, once, twice…

He sighed and stirred on his perch, blinking in the bright light though it was muted by the heavy green canopy surrounding him. Quatre obviously had other concerns and would have no further opportunity to think of sending him messages on the off chance he was listening. Besides, he knew enough to tide him over until they could meet.

It was growing late and he needed to consider getting his backside out of this tree and to his next class. Having a free period directly after his lunch break had helped guarantee him an actual lunch. It had taken so long to even get something to eat, but he had a class coming up and it would not do to be late.

Tardiness was frowned upon at Tsuberov.

He had wished innumerable times he might be a full telepath as Quatre was. They could share real conversations in private with no one the wiser, but Telepathy was not his forte and he could not send a confirmation to Quatre assuring him he had heard the message. Exhaustive tests upon his entry to Tsuberov had determined there was no measurable telepathic talent, a fact which had not particularly pleased the patriarch of the Barton Family.

Tsuberov's training techniques were honing his talent to a fine edge, teaching him to extend and stabilize the contact and sensitize his mind to receive with clarity the conversations he was targeted to listen to. His lack of telepathic skill would not detract from any future employment contract, and if he should make the projected Level 8 readings he could look forward to a lucrative contract and interesting position.

/At least I'm a minor cousin, so the family should not be too picky about my choice of career. I should be free to choose the contract I find the most interesting./

As a member of the influential Barton clan he had had no difficulty in being accepted by Tsuberov University, and he could say with honesty he had enjoyed his stay at the complex. The classes were varied, the subject matter interesting and a training program had been tailored to his personal needs.

Dekim Barton had even kept an eye on his progress and at his return home, at the beginning of the break, had personally congratulated him on his development and his exemplary record at the university. As pleased as he had been by that acknowledgement he had found himself wishing he had remained anonymous, though he could not say why. Certainly the man had never done anything to him. Dekim Barton always left Trowa feeling he had dipped his hands in thick, viscid oil.

Movement at the dorm building drew his attention and he frowned, caught up by a most curious sight. With widening eyes he watched as one of the mid-sized refrigerators common to the dorm rooms floated through the door. In slow and stately fashion the refrigerator drifted down the steps followed by a short young man sporting a tight ponytail and an intent look.

/Telekinetic./

Forgetting the need to get to class he leaned forward watching the heavy unit drift over to the clean suited men following the kinetic talent down the steps. A sizable roll of heavy grade plastic wrap was produced from the group and the men unravelled a length of the plastic before moving to stand on opposing sides of the fridge.

/Well, that confirms it. If they are going to wrap the fridge it means…/

The thought trailed off and Trowa leaned forward in attentive interest. The tall redhaired figure emerging from the dorm was strikingly familiar to Trowa, though he found himself doubting what he was seeing. There was no way _he_ would be at Tsuberov-unless whatever had happened in the dorms the night before was more than petty vandalism.

A good deal more serious.

The redhead moved to join the telekinetic and they spoke for a moment, exchanging comments with the clean-suited individuals. Trowa was tempted to initiate his talent to overhear their conversation, but at the moment his curiosity was not greater than the protocols drilled into him. Whatever was said one of the men moved to the truck and climbed inside, emerging a few seconds later, nodded and gestured behind him. The redhead and kinetic exchanged comments once more and, in doing so, the taller of the two turned to squarely face Trowa.

No, he was not mistaken.

/Treize? What…? He works for the Agency. What is he doing here?/

The man he had identified as Duke Treize Kushrenada motioned to the two clean-suited agents nearest the unit to continue and dropped his hand lightly to the shoulder of the kinetic.

/He has spoken of his partner, Wu Fei, I think he said his name was and he looks to be Chinese or Japanese. That must be him. As I recall, Treize told Mariemaia his partner was a kinetic talent./

The clean-suited agent standing closest to the oak sheltering Trowa, moved to hook his end of the plastic around the handle of the refrigerator door. With a nod to his companion he stepped aside as the other man increased the tension on the strip preparatory to enclosing the unit in a tight loop of plastic. The secured end snapped taunt with such force it pulled the handle and the door fell open.

Trowa reared back in shock and overbalanced, clutching at the branch with suddenly nerveless fingers. Emerald green eyes were wide with horror even as he felt his world tilt alarmingly. He was staring directly into the refrigerator where, folded in on himself in a position that was surely anatomically impossible, was a man.

With a startled yelp Trowa tumbled out of the tree and plummeted toward the ground.

His heart leapt into his throat and he flailed uselessly at the air as he fell, desperately clawing for some purchase on the tree, missing all but an errant leaf or two. Something with a grip like iron snared him midair, the sudden jerk as his fall was abated dragged a grunt out of him, then he was deposited gently on the ground.

Panting heavily from fright, and not all of it from the fall, Trowa had to take a minute to gather his wits enough to look about him. He found himself to be the center of attention of the cluster of men, at the center of which stood the telekinetic and Treize Kushrenada.

/Oh shit. I am in so much trouble./

After a moment Treize stepped forward, approaching him and extending a hand in offer to assist him to his feet.

"Trowa Barton. What a pleasant surprise. I did not expect to see you today." Treize murmured by way of greeting, the epitome of the perfect gentleman. "I had no idea a hiatus at Tsuberov involved the study of imitating roosting chickens. You have the squawk down rather well."

"Treize." The rather breathless whisper was all he was capable of managing as he accepted the offer of a hand up.

"Passing the time of day with the pigeons?" Treize smiled, his blue eyes twinkling with genuine amusement, before they darkened with the return of a more serious vein. "You should be at classes, should you not? Somewhere, anywhere but sitting in a tree spying on matters of no concern to you."

Oh yes, he was in trouble.

"I… have a free class and… and I often sit in the tree."

He had to come up with better than that. The fall seemed to have addled his senses.

Treize merely arched a perfect, expressive forked eyebrow, his amusement still obvious though his companion seemed rather more irritated by the intrusion.

"Why?" The shorter man was scowling at him. "This is a place for learning, not for sitting in trees and idleness."

"Trowa Barton, Chang Wu Fei. It is Fei you need to thank for rescuing you from decorating the ground in an ungainly heap." Treize smiled that oh so charming smile Trowa wished fervently he could command and turn on Quatre.

"Thank… thank you." Trowa, recalling the lessons drummed into him both at home and at Tsuberov, bent his lanky frame into a formal bow hoping the gesture would be accepted.

Chang acknowledged the courtesy with an inclination of his head and turned his attention away from the youth. Trowa followed his gaze and winced as he saw the men working on wrapping the suspended refrigerator in plastic. Sudden alarm speared through him as he recalled what had startled him enough to cause him to fall.

The unit continued to hover in the air, revolving slowly on an invisible axis as it was enveloped in the plastic sheeting. The kinetic was obviously controlling the operation and Trowa lunged forward, reaching a hand toward the man only to have Treize grasp him by the shoulder with a frown.

"Let him out!"

Trowa was near panic. They would kill the man if they did not release him with all speed.

Treize scowled and exchanged a puzzled glance with his partner before turning Trowa to face him with a firm, no nonsense pressure of his hand.

"Let who out?"

Trowa looked at the man as though he did not know him. "What? The man… the man in the fridge. You'll suffocate him if you don't let him out of there immediately!"

Chang seemed to freeze, onyx eyes widening and the fridge dropped a couple of inches, startling the men busy wrapping it into springing back in the expectation it would fall. Tightening control of his talent and firming his grasp on the unit Wu Fei directed a chilling glare at the youth he had so recently saved from at least breaking bones, if not his neck.

In order to make the catch that saved Trowa from a hard landing, it had been necessary for Wu Fei to release his hold on the refrigerator for a precious fraction of a second. He had needed to reset his control points to enable him to keep the unit suspended and make the catch, securing Trowa before he hit the ground. He had caught the refrigerator less than an inch from the ground whilst he had deposited the spy on the grass with more gentleness than he was sure the youth deserved.

"The man… in the fridge." Treize murmured. With a soft sigh he motioned toward the unit. "The fridge is empty, Trowa."

"No! No, I…" He stared at Treize, his panic rising. "There is a man in there! You have to let him out before it is too late."

Treize gently restrained Trowa, interposing his body between the fridge and the youth. "Trowa, do you honestly believe a full grown man could fit into a unit that size? He would have a problem fitting in if he was suffering dwarfism, which is the only way I imagine anybody would be able to fit with any degree of comfort."

"I never said he was comfortable!" Trowa pressed his face into his hands and steadied himself, nothing would be accomplished if he panicked and lost control.

He had to remember who he was dealing with. He had always found the Duke to be eminently sensible and fair to a fault in their past associations. Treize was a Prime, an elite telepath and empath and if he wanted to get anywhere with this before the man in the refrigerator succumbed he had to appeal to the professional, not merely to the man himself.

"Look, use your telepathy! Your empathy even. There is a man in the fridge and he's dying while we stand here and argue." He met the calm blue eyes with a scowl, but made a valiant effort to steady himself.

For a long moment those serious blue eyes watched him and then moved on to the dark eyes of his partner. The two men exchanged a long look and the kinetic sighed, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose before nodding slightly. The Prime sighed softly and turned once again to Trowa.

"There is no man in the fridge, Trowa." Treize murmured. "I would know, don't you think, given my talent?"

"Treize, there is a man in the fridge and he will die…" He moved to step around Treize and felt the man's hand tighten on his shoulder.

He stopped abruptly at the small shake of the Duke's head and found himself staring into sad blue eyes. It was the look more than anything that broke through to him and he snapped his mouth shut, shuddering delicately.

"I see." He whispered. It was not something he had expected and he really did not want to have it confirmed, but there was no help for it. "I understand but… How? Why?"

"I can't tell you anything, Trowa, you know that." Treize spoke quietly. "I do assure you there is no one in there."

"He was the reason the dorm was evacuated this morning, wasn't he? But… I don't understand. Why evacuate everyone today? The word made the rounds yesterday there had been a death on campus. Why did you leave a body in the fridge overnight? Why wait until now to take him away? Or… has there been a second death? What is going on, Treize?"

Treize considered the youth who was a fifth cousin to his own daughter and fervently wished Trowa had not been in that tree. He had obviously not quite grasped the significance of the incident and he wished he could spare him further distress. He knew the young man was a clairaudient talent, but he had not known of this other ability. It was a talent he hoped the youth could learn to deal with, because he had no doubt why Trowa claimed there was a body, a man, in the unit.

It was a talent that was not, as many believed, common amid the psychic community. It was, unfortunately, particularly fashionable in the parlours of the idle rich and bored. Spiritualists were invariably shams, even in this enlightened age of psychic investigation. Those who truly possessed the ability to see and speak with the dead were not, as a rule, inclined to advertise their abilities. It often frightened the users so badly they blocked the talent in defense of their sanity.

Given his daughter was the child of Leia Barton he knew more than a little of the talents in the family. He had needed to know all aspects of the Barton's psychic talents and the possible talent, or talents, which might emerge when their genetics crossed with his own. The result of the crossing had been the child, Mariemaia Barton-Kushrenada and there was no projected Medium ability on her charts.

He was certain the ability to communicate with the dead had not been listed in the Barton prospectus, but there was the possibility he could gain something useful out of this complication. He had always thought Trowa to be particularly level-headed and not at all prone to flights of fancy.

Sapphire blue eyes flicked to Wu Fei and he squeezed Trowa's shoulder gently. He could sense clearly enough the confusion/alarm/fear/uncertainty/disbelief roiling within the younger man.

"Open the refrigerator, Wu Fei. Let him see."

Chang scowled, glaring at the Prime and Trowa was sure he could see wheels turning in the man's head

"Are you sure?" The kinetic growled.

"Quite sure." Treize looked to Trowa and turned him so they locked eyes, demanding his attention. "We are going to trust you and I expect you to be honest and straightforward with me. After you look inside the refrigerator we will go somewhere private and we will talk. It will be a potentially long talk and what we discuss and what you have witnessed here, will remain secret. Do you understand that? "

Trowa hesitated but whatever was happening here he would not, could not, leave without investigating. He had always been fascinated with the line of work in which Mariemaia's father found his employment. Treize had no need to work, the man was disgustingly wealthy and there were multiple family businesses continually feeding his wealth. Independently wealthy as he was Trowa knew a life of idleness simply was not in Treize's nature. The world of big business and politics bored him to tears.

Treize needed something beyond boardrooms and conferences to give him that well to do buzz of a life well-lived.

"Fine, but… my classes?"

"Open the fridge. " Chang motioned to the men standing on either side of the refrigerator who scowled at the instruction, but proceeded to unwrap the evidence. "You had best be right, Treize. As it is the Lady will rake you over the coals for this."

"It has to out eventually, Fei and I know Une will know what I have done before the hour is up. Your classes, Trowa, will be taken care of and I should not need to detain you for more than an hour or so. Wait here for a moment."

Leaving Trowa watching the unwrapping of the evidence Treize drew Chang to one side and, after initiating a telepathic scan of the area to determine if there might be other unwelcome witnesses, he decided they were reasonably safe.

"If Trowa still claims the fridge is occupied it is our best hope of learning what happened. We will need to acquire a decent Medium, one with a high rating as I believe the victim will be somewhat traumatised. He may not even realize he is dead. If the Medium can establish a good contact how better to learn who our John Doe actually was, and what happened to him?" Treize whispered to Chang. "Trowa was not listed on the Barton family registry of talent as a Medium. His listed talent is as a Clairaudient."

"How do you know him?"

"He is a Barton. My daughter's mother is Leia Barton."

"Ah, I see." It also explained why Treize was so free with touching the younger man when he rarely touched strangers. "If he is indeed a Medium talent would Tsuberov not be aware of this? Surely he was examined and tested on entry to the Institute."

"Of course he would have been and I know he was tested at Barton's compound. We still don't know enough about Psychic ability and what triggers it. Some people develop abilities later than others." Treize returned. "From memory his mother was listed as having a minor Medium's talent. She died when he was an infant and there was little about her abilities listed. What has likely happened is that none of the Barton's have a similar talent and they may not have known what to look and test for as he matured. "

"Deplorable neglect." Chang huffed. "It is a poor excuse for overlooking such a talent. Nor does it excuse the Tsuberov trainers for their laxity in failing to test for the full range of talents."

Treize rolled his eyes in exasperation, though he did admit Chang had a point, and moved to join Trowa as the last of the plastic sheeting fell from the refrigerator. One of the forensic team looked to them expectantly, and Treize rested a hand lightly on Trowa's shoulder. Chang nodded to the agent and the door was swung wide and all attention focused on Trowa who flinched under their scrutiny.

"He's dead, isn't he? And there is no body, is there?" Trowa whispered, trying not to look, his gaze focused on Treize, suddenly afraid.

He had had time to think, not much but a little, and Trowa had come to a conclusion he really was not thrilled with. It would mean at least another two years at Tsuberov if he had developed a new talent, and it might just be enough to arouse Dekim Barton's interest in his future.

"You tell me, Trowa. Is he in there?" Treize murmured.

They were waiting for him to look and he did not want to. He had to, of course. Cringing from the necessity would accomplish nothing. Taking a bracing breath he lifted his head, forcing himself to look into the eyes of death.

"Yes." A whisper. "He… he's trying to move and…"

He felt his stomach clench and shuddered, turning to look up at Treize who nodded, motioning to Chang to deal with the forensic team. Treize guided him gently a few steps away from the scene, turning him so his back was to the refrigerator.

"Seal the unit." Chang commanded. "We need it taken immediately to the laboratory. Have Samuel notified we will be requiring his services."

Treize sighed softly, studying the pale face turned up to him. "It's alright to heave, you know. Death is never pretty and it takes some getting used to."

"I'm… alright." He did not want to look again and he was incredibly thankful to feel that solid, very warm hand on his shoulders. "He… He was trying to move but… it was... He seemed unable to make his arm move… or his…"

Treize gently drew Trowa away from where the men were working, careful to keep his own body between what was going on near the van and the newly discovered Medium talent. He could leave Chang to supervise here and he would run damage control with Trowa, debriefing him as he did so.

"Death can be a disturbing thing when you are not prepared to face it. We have a number of Mediums working for us who will contact him and learn from him how he died, and what he was doing at the time of his death."

"I'm alright, really. I just need a minute." A whisper.

"Take your time. I'll get you something to drink shortly, hot and sweet. It will help."

"Who is… was… he?"

Chang considered the youth for a long moment and met the Prime's clear gaze, uncertain exactly how much they could share. He had not once considered the possibility the shade of the murder victim might inhabit the refrigerator. The very idea of it sent shudders up his spine and he was no Medium to actually see the victim. He would need to leave Treize to determine how much was safe to reveal.

"We do not know, Mr. Barton. Your unexpected presence has given us hope we will learn his identity with all speed. Thank you for your assistance."

Treize nodded briefly, considering how best to broach the subject of security to Trowa. The most effective method of ensuring no one learned of what had taken place was to establish a memory block. He could hope Trowa would not be offended at the suggestion, but in a society of telepaths it was a necessary precaution. It was possible Trowa might even want to forget what he had witnessed, in which case Treize could establish a full block on the memory. There were varying stages he might take such a block to and in the event Trowa did wish to forge, he would need to inform the Institute to retest the younger man.

Trowa might not thank him for that.

"I don't understand, Treize. Who would kill someone here of all places? And why? Why put the body in a fridge? That is just sick."

"We have only just begun our investigations into the matter. It will take time to learn what happened and why."

"It makes no sense." Trowa wiped his sweating palms on his trousers, shuddering at the memory of the figure somehow pushed into the fridge. "It's insane."

"No one ever said killers were sane, Trowa. In this line of work I have seen some things that would shock you to the core. It can be a very ugly world." Treize glanced over at his partner. "Chang, I'll take Trowa to the Security Block and talk to him there. It will be more comfortable and private."

Wu Fei nodded briefly, aware of the team waiting for him to lift the now wrapped unit into the truck. He would like to sit in on that conversation, but there were other matters to attend to, and his partner would be safe enough in the Security Offices.

"I will continue with the clean up and meet with you later. Mr. Barton." Intense dark eyes moved from his partner to lock with Trowa's rich green eyes as the youth turned to look at him. "I do not expect to field questions concerning this incident from a multitude of curious students and Masters who have learned anything from loose lips. This is a murder investigation and we need to play our cards carefully if we are to discover the killer."

Treize sighed, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Some days Chang simply did not know when to shut up.

"Come along, Trowa. Have you seen Marie lately?"

t.b.c.

0000000000000000000000000000

Treize Kushrenada : Level 10 Sending/Receiving Telepath + Receiving and Projecting Empath at Level 10. Prime rated. Agency Operative contracted term of 5 years with 2 years remaining. 25yrs of age Training facility: Psychic Institute Munich Division.

Chang Wu Fei: Level 9 Telekinetic + Receiving Telepath Level 5. Agency Operative contracted term of 10 years with 8 years remaining, 22yrs of age Training facility:Psychic Institute Luxemburg Division.

Heinrich Otto: Tsuberov University Security Chief. No Psionic talent. Staff Member at Tsuberov for five years. Fitted with a Neural shield implant against telepathic intrusion. Former employment, Sanc Imperial Guard. 35 years of age.

Dean Alexander Hargraves: Dean at Tsuberov University and Parapsychic Institute. Neural Implant. Sending / Receiving Telepath Level 3

Heero Yuy: ESUN Security Agency Elite Operative. Government sanctioned Genetic enhancements performed by Romefeller Genetic Laboratory, Tokyo for adult service as Security Enhanced Operative. No Psychic Talent. Genetic induced enhancements include enhanced Strength, Hearing, Speed and Olfactory senses. Assigned regularly to liaison with The Agency's psychic agents. 21 / 22 years old

Professor Simon Havers: Professor at Tsuberov University. Head of Mechanical Engineering Department at Tsuberov. Author of three books on Colony Design. Non Psychic. Fitted with a Neural Implant. 58 years of age

Trowa Barton : Psi student, 2nd year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Clairaudient ability, Level 6, projected rating L8. Unrecognized talent, Medium. 19/20 years of age

Quatre Rababer Winner: Psi student, 2nd year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Current Level 5 Telepath, projected Level 7, Current Level Receiving Empath 9.3, projected Level 10, Prime. Current Sending Empath Level 2, projected Level 4. Colony of Origin, L4 Cluster 18 years of age


	15. Chapter 15

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 15/

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 15/??

Author: Karina

Chapter Fifteen

Treize refrained from glancing back at the agents working around the forensic van, his partner amongst them. His concern was no longer the psychic investigation of the individual items to be prepared for transport to the Agency laboratories. His high powered empathy, which permitted him to use his empathic form of psychometry to accurately gage the emotions of the individuals who had handled them, was now directed solely toward the younger man walking at his side.

His talent had been making the choice of which items to remove from the crime scene simple. With him otherwise occupied, his partner would need to bag everything he had not already designated as being pertinent to the investigation. Their usual technique required him to pin point items a suspect would have physically handled, or had soaked in strong emotion and later be fitted into their investigation. It would mean wasted time later, sorting out the wheat from the chaff, but there was no help for it. They had delayed enough already waiting for the Agencies specialist forensic unit to arrive; he was not inclined to delay longer while a lesser psychometric talent was summoned to take his place.

His focus now must become the younger man and settling him to the idea of this newly found talent. If he could gain some insight from Trowa into exactly what he had seen of the murdered man, it would be welcome and significant information. If Trowa had indeed seen the shade of the victim lingering in the refrigerator and he had no reason to think Trowa would be alluding to such a skill for no reason, he might be able to convince Trowa to permit him to scan his memory of the vision. Such a scan might enable him to determine some small detail Trowa was consciously unaware of, which might give them vital clues to both the identity and occupation of their victim.

It was unavoidable they draw attention from bystanders as they crossed the grounds and entered the security building. That he could tell they were staff and not students, in particular Otto's security personnel in prominent evidence. He caught flashes of curiosity, some concern and recognition from those who recognized Trowa in his company and no small amount of attention followed them through the doors to the offices.

The staff present in the foyer nodded politely and made way for him, but he could feel the mounting curiosity and the growing focus of their concern at Trowa's presence. The building served to focus their emotions and he was careful to appear relaxed and casual as he motioned Trowa toward the door leading deeper into the building. In very short order Otto would be informed, and possibly the Master of the University, which would make life a little easier for him when he approached the Registrar over the need to reassess the younger man's talent.

He informed the desk officer he would be using Otto's office and would appreciate not being disturbed for a time. The woman on duty was, he noted, an empath and he lightly brushed her shields with his own talent. He projected a calming aura and mild curiosity, careful to give no hint Trowa was in anyway involved in causing the disturbance. In return he received her projected content, reading it as acknowledgement and a confirmation she understood Trowa was not in trouble. Satisfied he was not about to have Otto and his superiors breathing down his neck in the space of minutes, he followed Trowa to the door leading into the depths of the building.

Stepping through the door he took the opportunity to study the younger man as he took stock of his surroundings. Deciding physical grounding would be called for Treize maintained a fingertip touch on the broad shoulder, motioning with his free hand in the direction he wanted them to go. Using the light touch to better sense the emotions roiling within Trowa, Treize considered how well the youth was dealing with what had happened.

He could sense Trowa's confusion all too easily and the fear underlying it. There was also a more than healthy curiosity steadily gaining strength. His daughter's cousin was finding firmer mental footing, and he was pleased his assessment of Trowa being a basically level headed and steady young man, was proving to be sound. It was not easy to see death for the first time and Trowa had seen beyond death, a harder reality to deal with than the physical body itself. He suspected by the time they settled to the interview Trowa would be stabilized mentally and not likely to fall apart on being questioned.

One thing the Barton's did not do was breed weak kneed stock.

Since Trowa seemed content with the situation and had, from memory, never been overly mouthy, Treize did not feel he needed to engage in meaningless prattle merely to assist Trowa in grounding himself. When dealing with this particular Barton useless conversation might well be the worst thing to attempt.

Trowa had always been quiet, he recalled, reserved; a young man who seemed well enough able to amuse himself and did not feel the need to be noticed by his elders. Given what Treize knew of the nature of the in-house politics of the Barton Clan, this was most likely a survival instinct that had kept his profile low enough to avoid undue attention from the Elders. No doubt this new found talent would attract far more attention than he would be comfortable with, but there was no help for it. Trowa would need to be trained and the Patriarch would be required to give his consent.

The silence was not bothering the youth, who emanated a strong desire to think while he could and the certainty he was not going to particularly like the aftermath of the coming interview. Treize was willing to permit Trowa to take his time, unwilling to rush the younger man as he struggled to deal with the situation. Treize needed him centred and well aware of the repercussions of the interview; willing to listen as well as talk.

Maintaining a light monitoring touch he read growing interest as they passed the various offices and glimpsed security personnel at work. For an instant he caught the quickly squashed desire to be a part of such camaraderie. There was a genuine interest in the work being carried on underlying Trowa's curiosity. There was also an aching desire to belong, but Treize sensed the fatalistic acknowledgement so familiar to him with all who came from the old families of European descent. The very real knowledge one was not likely to escape the future the Elders had planned. Trowa might be a minor cousin in the clan, but his fate was controlled by the Elders who sat up and took notice of a child once their Psi talent established.

/Rather reminds me of a somewhat milder version of my own discontent. I was desperate enough to jump at the chance I was given to escape my fate. For me it was a success, and I have no regrets about the choices I made. No doubt he is considering the advent of this Medium talent to be a nail in his coffin, ensuring he will never escape the Barton's grasp on his life. I have to wonder if it might not actually be his escape. Stranger things have happened. I suppose it will depend on his strength./

Treize was thankful Otto was otherwise occupied with the duties of running the security system for such a large and complex establishment as Tsuberov. The man had been nothing but cooperative, and Treize could not put his finger on the cause for the persistent itch that suggested Otto was hiding something. He could find nothing to complain about the man's behaviour, given the well ordered society under his command was currently in disarray by an unexplained death and multiple break ins. Some Security Officers would be highly defensive of their methods and training and insist they run the show, but Otto had been of every assistance to them. He had emanated an honest desire to sort out the mess as speedily as possible.

Otto had offered his office to the investigation team should they be required to interview anybody, and Treize was thankful for the privacy. He did not want to take Trowa to the Agency for the interview, preferring to keep the surroundings as familiar for the young man as possible, but needing to be assured they would not casually be disturbed. It was just another example of how willing to cooperate the former Sancian Royal Guard was. In some ways his lack of resentment worried Treize, though he supposed given the man's past he would accept the need for a murder to be investigated by the appropriate authorities.

/Still, there is something about him that bothers me. That mind shield is far beyond what I would expect to find given the situation. A Security Chief, even at so prestigious an establishment as Tsuberov, should not be fitted with a device so complex, costly and new. How did Otto get on the list to have such a new device implanted? It's ground breaking technology and expensive does not begin to describe the cost involved. There is more to him than meets the eye, but I suppose that is a puzzle I will need to entertain another time./

He stopped before the office door and pushing it open, motioned Trowa to enter. He could feel the youth's curiosity as he looked about, noting the rogue's gallery dominating one wall, the past employment of the man on open display. He caught the flash of appreciation on seeing the painting that should have been hanging in a museum, and then the uncertainty of what he should do next.

"Take a seat." Treize indicated one of the chairs placed before the desk.

Trowa settled in the centre of the three seats and gazed about him, giving Treize the impression he had never entered the office before. Given the Barton Clan's reputation, Treize could well believe the youth had kept his nose clean and had never needed to be called before Otto in an official capacity.

The younger man still looked peeked by the encounter, and Treize considered him as the youth settled in the chair. Too many of the Barton clan considered themselves to be above the common masses, but Trowa, on the occasions they had previously met, had always struck him as being down to earth and eminently sensible. Still no questions asked, though Treize did detect mounting nervousness and swelling curiosity. It seemed being in the office was enough to rouse Trowa's unease and a rising tide of fear.

No doubt if he had incurred the displeasure of the Barton Elders, he would have a natural nervousness to being placed in an environment which screamed authority. Otto would be associated with discipline and discipline always made a body nervous. Treize was no exception to that reaction in younger years.

While Trowa was not a chatty individual, Treize sensed that in his reticence, much of his silence might have been the result of little practise of speaking to authority figures in the home environment. Until Dekim Barton, the family patriarch deemed you an adult, you were treated as a child and were expected to keep your nose out of family business-and your mouth firmly shut. How Barton determined when the clan children were adult depended from child to child, but it was not an arrangement that suited Treize, who had a far more relaxed attitude when it came to children.

The Barton attitude of children must be rarely seen and definitely not heard was something Treize was determined to monitor as his daughter grew older. At the present time she was only six years of age and needed her exuberance controlled. He was not, however, inclined to permit her to be subjugated by the Barton clan. She was, after all, a Kushrenada and his family had a history of speaking their minds. Within the Kushrenada family even young children were encouraged to do so, after all, one did not learn anything if one did not ask questions; or make mistakes.

The Barton adults, particularly those under Dekim's leadership in the main family compound, tended to play their cards very close to their chests. Internal house politics had been known to run into bloodshed; more than one patriarch of the house had met an untimely end. Not that he could say the Kushrenada's had not had their share of murder and intrigue. It was rife amid the old families and always would be.

He had been aware of their hierarchy before he had agreed to the contract for a child and was confident in his ability to spare any child of his their sanctions for being a typical Kushrenada. Leia had been more forward than most of her family and, he admitted, had he not been quite so firmly homosexual, he might have been interested in her. Given their past encounters and what he had sensed of her, though he would never reveal how deeply he had scanned her, he felt he could trust her to supervise their daughter's early education. He had, however, been careful to include in the contract access for himself to have a supervisory voice in all aspects of Mariemaia's life.

Given the Barton families somewhat more volatile nature than his own, he had taken pains to ensure the child would be given into his custody should Leia chance to die. It was not a clause the Barton patriarch had initially approved, but he had conceded eventually. The child still gave him access to the Kushrenada family and their sphere of influence; a legitimate heir to her father's considerable resources. At the present time, she was his only heir.

/Something I will need to address. I am not particularly fond of the idea, but one does have a commitment to one's family and to the ESUN as a Prime to consider./

Though not at the present time. He would take up the matter with his daughter on his upcoming vacation and he was, he promised himself, having that time off. The last thing he would need was for the other Primes to learn how strained his shields were. Forcing himself back to the present matter Treize made his way to the credenza.

"Coffee or tea, Trowa?"

"Coffee. Please." Trowa seemed to shake himself, making a visible effort to focus his attention on the Prime. "This is Otto's office? I've never actually been in here before."

"Well, I am pleased you have not been involved in anything untoward, though it does worry me you appear to be devoid of youthful exuberance. Except for the imitation of roosting chickens, of course."

Trowa blushed when he realized he had one of the nine Prime level Empathic Telepaths in the ESUN making him coffee. It was as surreal as learning he was a Medium talent.

"I've just never been caught."

Treize snorted softly and flashed a smile, deciding that was probably accurate. When you were reared in Barton's enclosure, if you got up to mischief you made certain it could not be traced back to you.

"What is going on, Treize? I… That was… I did see a body, didn't I?"

Treize glanced at the youth and after a moment's consideration shrugged broad shoulders, turning back to pouring the coffee into two mugs. "You can best tell me that."

Trowa scowled and stared at his hands resting on his thighs, fingers gripping quite powerfully and he made a conscious effort to loosen his grip. When he spoke it was quietly and with an assurance Treize approved.

"I did."

The Prime nodded and set both mugs on the desk, turning back to the credenza for the sugar basin and a teaspoon. "Do you have sugar and milk? We will need to contact your trainers and have a revised schedule prepared."

"Black, but I do have sugar. Thank you."

Choosing to have his coffee black Treize returned to the desk and settled back in Otto's chair, silently complimenting the man on how well it cushioned and supported the body. The day seemed hours longer than the hands of the clock proclaimed and his bed was a very long way away.

"Mediums are not too common and a powerful one is always in demand, particularly in the area of law enforcement. We have a staff of seven working for the Agency on a world wide basis, an additional five stationed on the colonies. Given today's society, we do not have enough bona fide talents to meet demand. It is easier to investigate a murder in this day and age than it was sixty years ago. If, of course, you can speak directly to the victim."

He noted the shiver, not very obvious, but he had been looking specifically for a reaction. Trowa would need counselling, as did most with the talent. He was far from surprised by the flash of what many people would name fear, but fell somewhat short of what he personally called a fear reaction. There were so many levels of fear only another high level empath could understand some of the more subtle distinctions.

"How many people have died?"

He arched an eyebrow at the question and said nothing, waiting for more. There was the need to talk in Trowa, though he was fighting that need and if being what appeared to be obtuse got the youth talking, he would develop clamp jaw and the IQ of a pea.

"How many people have died here, at Tsuberov, in the last day or two? How many and how?" Trowa tried again, being a little more detailed in his questions this time.

"To my knowledge only one person has died. Do you have reason to believe there is another? Have you seen anything odd; someone you can not explain being in a certain place at a particular time? Another spirit seeking someone to explain to them what has happened; though you may not have made a connection with their presence at the time. That is often how a Medium discovers their talent."

"No. No, nothing like that. I just… What is going on?"

"That is what I and my team are trying to determine. The Agency has been requested, by the ESUN Security Office, to assist in the investigation, given our rather unique catalogue of talents and resources. They have requested assistance in determining the state of affairs at Tsuberov and what threat level there may be to the student's resident here."

"Someone is dead. I would think that is a threat."

A flash of belligerence came clearly through the empathic link Treize had established. While the Prime acknowledged he personally would have preferred the precautionary removal of the Winner Heir and his roommates from the University until the matter had been dealt with, he could not actually say so to Trowa.

"But why is he dead, Trowa and what was he doing where he was when he died?" Treize noted Trowa had not touched his coffee and as a gentle prod picked up his own and sipped. "No one wants to cause a panic, understand that. It is doubtful the murder has anything to do with any of the students."

He could lie convincingly if he had to and if that was what it took to settle the young man down he would not hesitate. He would take as long as he needed to get what information he could out of Trowa, but he would need to be careful. He had seen too many emergent psi's mishandled and ruined. He would not make the mistake of permitting impatience to rule him.

"But…"

"The death occurred prior to the return of the student body to Tsuberov. I assure you, the victim was not a student registered here, nor was he employed by the University."

"He was too old to be a student." Trowa whispered, picking up his mug and nursing it for a moment before taking a cautious sip.

"Do you recall seeing him before?"

Trowa scowled and bit back a response, stating he was not in the habit of seeing dead people. He struggled to regain his equilibrium; it was hardly the Prime's fault he was now caught up in this situation. He should not let this bother him so much and he knew Treize was not asking him if he had seen more shades of murdered people. The agent was asking if he had seen the living breathing man, not the spirit. Allowing the incident to throw him so far from his centre was not going to help.

Taking a steadying breath and a moment to really sample the coffee, he considered what he had seen. Taking the detail of the man's face given the brief view he had had and the oddly scrunched in look of him within the refrigerator, he tried to fit the features to someone he knew. He generally had a good memory for faces, but he could not place this one and sighed.

"No. I can't recall having seen him around here, not that there was anything remarkable about him to remember; other than the fact he was dead and his body was not actually in the refrigerator."

Treize smiled slightly at the comment. "He was neither a student nor an employee and he was on the grounds unauthorized by Security. As yet a fingerprint search of all identification agencies world wide has drawn no result. Even with the networking we have enabling us to cross check agencies, given the size of the ESUN, these things take time. You have now given us the option of calling on a Medium to establish a line of communication to the victim, though such often takes time."

The offhand comment concerning the need for time to establish communication with the shade tweaked Trowa's interest. If he was going to be seeing the dead popping up in his vicinity, he might as well gain as much information as he could on the talent. A Prime knew at least a little information on every branch of the Psionic sciences, a necessary preparation for working with possible future partners. The Duke was a veritable gold mine of information, and he seemed willing to talk.

"Why would it take time? I would have thought a Medium would just need to ask, much as you and I are talking."

"The victims of violent and most often unexpected crimes, too often do not realize they are dead. Your little escapade in the tree has at least offered us the option of bringing in a Medium, now we know his spirit is still available to be contacted. We should be able to identify him and gain some clue as to the identity of his killer."

"You did not know the… Spirit… was in the refrigerator?"

"We did not. Understand, please, what I am about to tell you is privileged information; not to be shared with anyone. We need to keep the entire affair quiet and I assure you we do not believe any of the students are at risk. We would have no hesitation about closing down Tsuberov until the matter had been dealt with if we did."

That was, supposedly, the view of the Tsuberov officials and the ESUN, though he could not claim it was his own opinion. He would have been happier to have no students in the vicinity, but he had to be guided by the parameters set down by others, at least until he had the evidence to the contrary and could overrule them.

"I… alright. I understand I am to speak to no one about this."

"Most of the details you do not need to know and I will impress on you, once again, this information does not leave this office." At Trowa's nod Treize continued. "The victim was killed yesterday, sometime in the early hours of the morning, before any of the students arrived. We are still waiting for the pathology report to tell us exactly how he died and how long he had been dead."

"I know when to keep quiet, Your Grace. I will be discreet."

Treize waved a hand negligently, sipping at his coffee. "I am not a Duke at the moment, Trowa, merely an agent for the Agency."

"Prime Kushrenada then." Trowa nodded, failing to see Treize's wince at the formality. "What you said before… about bringing in a Medium. Does that mean you can simply ask the shade who it was who killed him? Can it be that easy?"

Treize only wished it was.

"In some cases, yes, that can be the case; but very rarely does anything come easily in this life. You need to understand that while the victim might be able to tell us who did the killing, the process of proving that information to a court of law is something else again. We still need evidence and unfortunately, a Medium's word is not good enough in the courts of today. No, I doubt in this case we will be fortunate enough for it to be that simple."

"I… guess I will have to learn all of this, won't I?"

"Yes, my friend, you will. I suspect you have more than a modicum of the talent, but we will not be expecting you to front the victim again. You have done enough, simply be letting us know the shade is there to be contacted."

There could be no denying the relief he sensed from Trowa at the assurance and Treize could not say he blamed the younger man. It was a disconcerting talent and in past centuries had had its practitioners labelled as anything from charlatans to insane. Though most psychic abilities had had the same effect through the ages. How many psychics, he mused, had been the victim of the Inquisition and the Witch burnings?

"We will bring in one of our own Mediums and perhaps, after you are trained to your peak, you might even work with me at the Agency."

"I guess being a Medium will open other opportunities. It seems very different to my Long Ear."

"You think?" Treize smiled at him. "You hear people you have learned to target, without being within sight or sound of them by ordinary standards. It is not so large a stretch of the imagination that your eyes, not just your ears, might have some unique talent. I do know of one other Medium who has a Clairaudient talent not too dissimilar from your own. You are not unique, my friend. We do not, as yet, begin to understand the psychic links that give us multiple talents, but they are there. In time we will understand more."

"I am almost afraid to inform Dekim Barton of this new ability. He seemed to be quite set on where my future lies."

Trowa would have been of interest to the Elders of the family when his talent had been marked and the rarity of his particular talent would have earned extra attention. Dekim Barton would be keen on exploiting that talent for the future of the family, Treize knew and he wondered if the patriarch would be as pleased with Trowa's Medium ability.

"You will not need to inform him. By the end of the day Tsuberov will have handled the contact. If you think you need some assistance, feel free to call on me. I will be listing myself as a consultant on your file, as I will be bringing your talent to the attention of the University."

To say Trowa was surprised by the revelation would be an understatement. A notation on his record of a Prime's interest would not be missed and it was certain to be brought to Dekim Barton's attention.

"You don't have to do that. I am sure you have plenty of other matters to attend to."

"Well, we are, in a manner of speaking, cousins, are we not?"

"I guess we are." Trowa looked relieved and took a healthy mouthful of his coffee. He felt comforted by the interest of the Prime and wondered if the man was using his talent to settle him down. "How did he die? He was so scrunched up in the refrigerator it was hard to see any marks on him."

"He died quickly and suddenly and as a result he may be unaware he is dead. If that is the case, our Medium will need to contact his shade quickly, gain his confidence and initially learn his name. It is possible he did not see his killer and as I said, we are still waiting for the pathology report. Some deaths are so quick the victims do not realize what has happened. I believe this might be one of them."

"So, he was not shot? Or knifed? They leave visible sign, but if you don't know that means… Was it Psi?" A horrified whisper escaped, the thought of someone killing with a psionic talent was abhorrent to him. "How did he die?"

Treize sipped his coffee and set it slowly on the desk, placing it precisely and turned his gaze to Trowa, speaking quietly and firmly. He knew the young man was bright.

"We are waiting for the pathology report to confirm our suspicions."

Trowa considered Treize for a long moment and blinked, only too aware of the intensity of those blue eyes centred on him.

"You are not going to tell me, are you?"

A small smile lifted the corners of his mouth. "Not at the present time, no. That is one of the things you do not need to know."

Trowa drew a shaky breath. "Okay… but… how was he fitted into a fridge that size? I mean…" He shook his head, the long fall of his hair over half of his face momentarily revealing both emerald eyes. "I won't speak of this to anyone, Treize. You know that I can keep quiet, but the look on his face… I'm not going to be able to forget that look for a long time."

"I know you can keep silent, Trowa, that is not the problem. You have now met my partner. He can be quite intense and he has definite ideas of what should and should not, be revealed. For the moment I can say very little about the case."

"Intense." Trowa whispered. "Yes, he can be described as intense. A high level kinetic. I remember you telling Marie about him one day. What level is he?"

"Chang's strength lies in his telekinetic talent. He is a level 9 Telekinetic; yes, quite a rare strength." He acknowledged Trowa's arched eyebrow with a small nod. "The Agency needs to employ strong talents to meet the growing requirements expected of us. You will not find anyone with less than a level 7 primary talent working as field investigators."

"I have heard of The Agency from others in the family. When they learned you had gone to work for them, they were horrified."

Treize could not quiet restrain his predatory grin and the amused glint in his eyes. He was certain 'horrified' would actually be an understatement, given some of the clandestine business operations attributed to the Barton family. Not that the Kushrenada clan could talk.

"Perhaps they were afraid my independence and flaunting of the old traditions might be picked up by your generation. I have, I admit, had an effect on others in the old Families and the Elders of certain other families are far from amused by me."

"I gathered some of them were not happy about the prospect of you picking up on matters best left unsaid while you visit with Marie." Trowa shrugged broad shoulders and looked embarrassed. He had no doubt Treize was aware of the opinion of certain members of the Family.

"Afraid I might pick up on something best left secret, hmm?" He could not resist the small chuckle. "Yes, I find that reaction common when dealing with big business and particularly politically oriented situations. What old family in the European sector does not dabble, hmm? I admit and I will thank you not to comment on this to anyone, that I have never warmed to Dekim Barton and his ambitions. I like Leia well enough. She has been good to Marie."

Trowa watched Treize for a long moment. The Prime could clearly sense his hesitation and a deep desire to avoid trouble. Teamed with his caution was a real concern and it was no surprise when Trowa hunched over in his chair, looking extremely uncomfortable, interlocked his fingers to still their restless movement and drew a steadying breath.

"Leia and Dekim… have been arguing lately." Trowa hesitated, looking pained, but he liked Mariemaia and he liked her mother far more than he approved of the patriarch.

"Over?" Treize encouraged softly.

Treize knew Leia was not particularly fond of her father, but he also knew she was well aware of her position as a Barton and was fiercely loyal to the family. She was one of the few members of the younger generation her father would take the time to listen to. Trowa would be all too aware he was treading where his toes did not belong, but Treize could feel his struggle with himself. Trowa believed he needed to say something, to make him aware of some upcoming trouble within the Family. Something that might impact on Mariemaia.

"I… I'm not certain but… It is forbidden to use any Psychic talent unauthorized in the precincts of the House. I don't initiate my Long Ear but… sometimes I can't help 'hearing' something no one else is supposed to know. I'm not always in my shielded room and sometimes it just… happens. Marie's only six and she likes me and I like her. She's different from the other kids at the main compound. I sort of got into the habit of looking out for her when I am home."

Treize was careful not to allow his growing concern to be seen. This boded ill for the future and he would need to keep alert for a change in Barton's strategies.

"This has something to do with my daughter?"

"I believe it has something to do with Marie, but I haven't heard anything specific. Leia does not talk much at the best of times around me, but lately she has been… almost silent around the house. She seems to be spending all of her spare time with Marie too."

Treize frowned, leaning back in his seat. He did not trust Dekim Barton not to plan out a use for Mariemaia within his dynastic ideals. He had known at the time of agreeing to the contract that he was going to have to watch the man. Barton played a different kind of game than the Kushrenada's and he was only too willing to use children in his schemes. It was not a pretty or overly discreet style and many of the Kushrenada's considered him 'tacky'. While Treize had full access to his daughter, he knew there was a great deal Barton would not want him aware of concerning his ambitions for Mariemaia in future years. The man tended to plan his games twenty years ahead of the here and now, and that made him dangerous.

"I am pleased you look out for her, and would appreciate it if you would continue to do so. I will need to keep a closer eye on her if he is already beginning to notice her at six."

"It was considered a coupe when the contract was signed with the Barton family gaining majority custody of the child."

Treize grunted softly. "I personally thought at the time my Uncle was a fool to agree… though he has always been thick with Dekim." He was wary enough of his own relatives not to have made his displeasure obvious at the time. "They are a canny pair and I need to watch them. Thank you, Trowa and be assured, no one will hear anything from me."

Assured his concerns for the little girl were noted and would not be dismissed, Trowa relaxed. He had, in effect, betrayed his family in bringing his concern to Treize at this unexpected opportunity, but he could not say he was sorry. If he could he would escape the family. He was sure he could find opportunities to establish a future for himself.

"Let us not get sidetracked. Tell me, why do you sit in oak trees, outside of abandoned dormitory blocks, doing a passing fair imitating of a roosting chicken?"

Trowa had the grace to look embarrassed. "I was startled when the door fell open and there was a man in the refrigerator, okay? I was shocked enough that I fell out of the tree and you don't need to make jokes about it. It's embarrassing enough as it is."

Treize grinned, an evil glint in his eyes. "Oh, I don't know. I can wring a bit more amusement out of it if without trying too hard. Lord knows this investigation is proving to be strange enough that I need a lighter view on life."

Trowa groaned and glared at the older man. "I'm not going to live it down, am I?"

"Of course you will. Just give me a day or three to be amused by it." Treize chuckled. "Just because I am amused does not mean I intend to share the reason with others, at the cost of your dignity. Have no fear; unless one of the other witnesses to your unsuccessful challenge to the physics of gravity mentions it, no one will hear it from me."

Trowa sighed, well aware the Prime was working on getting him to see the funny side of life again. He could not, however, banish the sight of that squashed form and those eyes imploring him. What it was the shade wanted from him he did not know and he was not keen on finding out.

"That's something at least."

Treize inclined his head and smirked. "Now what were you doing up the tree?"

Trowa sighed again. He was not going to be able to avoid answering and he knew it. He felt the Prime was being honest with him and was genuinely concerned, but the man also had a reputation within the Barton family. He knew enough to know that Dekim was careful around the Prime and the family Patriarch's caution said everything. Treize Kushrenada was dangerous and not simply because he worked for The Agency.

He had heard enough at the compound to know Treize would pursue a subject until he had the information he wanted; he would cling like a limpet and not let go until he was satisfied with the answers. Dekim had warned his people, on more than one occasion in Trowa's hearing, to beware of the Prime. It gave Trowa the confidence to be honest up front-or spend the next seven hours being grilled in a most gentle, but thorough, manner. He had heard one cousin, who had dabbled in a case Treize was involved in, comment that the Prime rarely got nasty, but when he did it was better not to be around and the focus for his anger.

A telepathic Prime's anger could kill.

"I was…" He hesitated, entertaining the notion of lying, but under those compelling sapphire eyes he relented. The empath would know he lied, and he found it was important to him to keep the Prime's good opinion. "I was listening for a friend. I often climb the tree to escape attention when I have the opportunity and listen for him."

/Ah. I had wondered what the tree thing was all about. You have not, I think, said it all though./ Treize nodded. "You are not in trouble, Trowa. Far from it, in fact, your presence has been beneficial to the investigation. I just need to know what you were doing there and why you were there at that particular time."

He had hoped to avoid the subject of Quatre, but it looked like he might not be able to. Hopefully he could satisfy the Prime, perhaps even divert him, without being obvious. He really did not want to mention names, or the extent of their friendship.

"We share few classes, our talents being so different and he never came to class this morning. Then the word circulated the dormitory block was evacuated in the early morning and the rumours were rather wild by the time they reached me. I had hoped to hear from him as to where he was to be billeted and when he would resume normal classes. I usually climb that tree because the canopy is thick enough to offer me privacy and the branches are large enough to offer me a safe perch."

"And did you?"

"Pardon?"

"Hear from him."

"Oh. Yes, he sent me a message. We do that when we can; he'll whisper a message hoping I am listening for him. He said he should be able to see me in class tomorrow."

Treize considered Trowa for a long moment, pushing aside the remnants of his coffee. He had not been actively scanning the youths mind, but he had been monitoring the timbre of his minds emanations. He found himself to be intrigued by the flavour of Trowa's thoughts and the hint he was hoping to avoid something. There was a hint in the impressions he was receiving, a touch of fear, longing and unmistakable desire, that he recognized.

He had suspected, soon after first meeting the young man who had then been barely a teenager, that Trowa might be bisexual, or perhaps homosexual. His suspicions had been aroused by youthful hormones responding to the people around him and his resulting emotional responses to that interaction. Trowa's body language had been suggestive and it brought to mind his own inner conflict over his sexuality. It appeared the youth might have made up his mind concerning his sexual orientation.

What was intriguing and somewhat surprising to the Prime, was the fleeting image he caught, quickly squashed. The face was familiar and it was not really a surprise, considering certain magazines they had discovered in one of the bedrooms the day before.

"Quatre Rababer Winner?" He arched an eyebrow. "Does he return your feelings?"

Trowa blushed scarlet and ducked his head, hiding behind the long fall of hair over his face. He should have known better than to try to deceive the Prime, but he really had wanted to avoid anyone knowing about their budding relationship. He thought it was good of Treize to permit him a few minutes to gather himself, but he really could not bring himself to answer. He was hopeful Quatre was as keen on him as he was on the Winner heir.

When no comment was forthcoming Treize sighed and leaned back in his seat, considering how best to get the youth to open up to him. That his emotions were in a turmoil over something in its infancy was obvious and he was not about to betray what was obviously going to be a very personal confession. He needed to keep Trowa's confidence and he knew from personal experience, how hard it was to take that final step into being actively and openly, homosexual.

"I am as gay as a fairy on Smack, Trowa. It makes no difference to me what your personal preferences are, nor was I scanning you. You were thinking very strongly of the Winner heir and I chanced to catch your hope, not any actual thoughts. Contrary to whatever you may have heard, I do not peek into the heads of Barton family members whenever the whim takes me."

The youth was staring at him, visible eye wide, and for a moment it looked like he might fall off the chair. Treize gave him a moment and being careful not to sound patronizing or disapproving, resumed his questioning.

"I presume it is not a hopeless attraction? He does know and return your regard?"

"You're…" Trowa sighed, dropping his head into his hands and scrubbing at his face. "I did not realize that you were… well…"

"Homosexual. No need to flit about it, Dear Boy. I am what I am. You must realize not everybody in this world is cut from the same cloth. A word of advice, Trowa. Once you know your orientation you can either agonize over it-over how other people will react to your sexuality- or you can simply let it be what it is. I am gay. It is a matter that concerns me and no one else, though to be sure there are those who have strong opinions of disapproval. I expected that, given my families status and while I can not say it does not hurt, I have come to accept their disapproval as simply being the way it is. What you do with your revelation concerning your sexuality is up to you. Being homosexual is not the stigma it was even two generations ago and amongst telepaths it is imperative you understand your sexuality."

"How is that?" He was genuinely curious and forgot his own embarrassment as he tried to puzzle out why understanding his sexuality was so important to the Prime.

Treize shrugged, seeking for words a non telepath could understand. A fellow telepath knew exactly why you had to understand where your preferences lay and how important it was to accept that orientation.

"A high level telepath does not have the luxury of lying to his, or her, self where sex is concerned. The human body is the sum of genetic parts and the human mind is something else entirely. The body, depending on the set of one's genetics, has preferences on what it finds attractive and what it does not. The same can be said of the mind. It is not a given that what the body desires is necessarily the same as what the mind finds attractive."

He could see the youth was listening, perhaps giving him more attention than he gave to his lecturer's. In many ways this talk would shape Trowa's future and Treize was well aware he needed to be honest. If the young man was entertaining the notion of having an affair, whether brief or long term with an empath, he would need to be prepared for the facts, not go into it believing in the fictional happy ever after.

It was, unfortunately, far more complicated to find the perfect mate for one with as sensitive a talent as that possessed by the Winner Heir. Treize was all too aware of the pitfalls to be found in a relationship for the likes of himself and Quatre Rababer Winner.

"If either the mind or the body is fighting the other you can forget any sort of sexual satisfaction taking place, no matter the times one indulges. Repeated experiences, if continually unsuccessful, will cement unpleasant responses to strain a relationship. Experimenting will produce anything but satisfaction, though there may be a physical climax experienced."

Trowa exhaled slowly, settling a little deeper into his seat. "You are not speaking exclusively about Telepaths, are you?"

"No, I am not. This applies to everyone, talent or non talent, it makes little difference. A telepath generally learns their sexual orientation soon after their talent begins to develop on reaching puberty. What follows in our talk will be a telepaths view of sex, but it applies to non telepaths too. Anyone thinking about a physical relationship with a Sensitive, telepath or empath, will need to consider the broader aspects of sex. Empaths are much like telepaths, unable to hide from the truth of their orientation, though they might try."

"Quatre is a Prime level Empath, though not as yet accredited. He is expected to develop a high level telepathic ability, though how high and how fully ranged is, as yet, unknown." Trowa murmured.

"All telepaths and Empaths learn the same lesson, Trowa. It is unavoidable when the mind and body desire something so similar and yet so different. Sex is the great leveller, the one thing no one can hide from. He will soon learn he can not hide from himself and his family's desires for his future will, unfortunately, conflict if he is, truly, homosexual."

"They are not… comfortable… with the idea of homosexuality. They are religious." Trowa whispered.

"And their religion is one of the more solidly opposed to same sex relationships of a sexual nature. You can have same sex relationships without having sex enter the equation, but it takes immense willpower to keep the two separated. Yes, Quatre will need to deal with both his family and his religious views, because for one of his talent, to lie to himself will be to chance insanity. You are neither telepath nor empath, so you will not know if he is honestly accepting of what lies within him. You will need to tread a very fine line if you decide to set foot on that road with Quatre Winner."

"What do I look for? How do I tell if he is comfortable with the idea of our friendship developing beyond this point, into something more physical? Please. I need to understand, so I can help him decide."

"All you can do is be yourself and above all, be honest. You can explain to him how you feel, but you must be aware of the level of honesty you need to exercise when dealing with a Sensitive. You can not lie to an Empath or a Telepath of high level. Any doubts you have will be read and undermine his confidence in you and in himself. In your relationship as a whole. No matter what you do, ultimately it is his choice alone to make and he must make that choice as honestly as you have dealt with him."

Treize leaned forward in his seat, intent on the young man. He could not stress the importance of honesty enough to get this point across. It was not easy to be absolutely honest, and an empathic partner could not help but know if you lied. Even unintentionally.

"Help me to understand him better; to understand me better."

He could sense Trowa did not understand just how difficult it was going to be to say, think and feel the truth. There was a real will in the young man to be honest with the one he wanted to develop more than a friendship with. It would be a rocky road, full of pit falls, but if they chanced to make the journey successfully, they would have something beautiful.

"Have you not spoken to anyone at your family compound about your sexuality?"

"No."

A wave of discomfort told him Trowa was very uncomfortable with the idea of revealing his sexuality to his family. It was not an unusual reaction in someone still engaged in sorting out his preferences, who came from a dynastically driven environment. There was more than fear of their disapproval; Treize picked up what he interpreted as a fear of being used.

"There is no one there I feel I might confide in, who would not go screaming the news to every member of the family. I'm not comfortable enough in myself to reveal all yet. You are the first person I have felt I can talk to about it."

It was not a glowing view of the Barton family structure, but Treize had had his own doubts and fears about his family as well, all proven to be well founded. All he could do was be honest and hope the younger man took in and believed half of what he was telling him. Some of it he would not understand, only another telepath or empathy would and while Trowa wanted to understand he was going to be limited. Some things you had to 'feel' to accept.

He had not thought he would need to explain the birds and bees to anyone before his daughter came of age; and then he had hoped it would be Leia doing the explaining. He was, in effect, doing exactly that; engaging in sex education with someone who only had half the available requirements to understand what he was saying. Trowa had the intelligence and the physical need, but he did not have the sensitivity to literally 'feel' what he needed to understand.

"The first thing you need to accept is there is a difference between the male mind and that of the female. Both sexes approach intimacies in a very different fashion. When I consider the gulf in the minds of the two sexes, I am truly astonished the human race has survived this long. Telepathy and empathy might yet bring about the end of the human race."

Trowa arched an eyebrow, staring at the Prime in surprise, clearly not understanding his comment. Treize sighed, waving a hand slightly to forestall his interruption.

"It is true, male and female think along very different lines. I could give you a list of books on the psychological differences between the sexes that would fill the national library, but it would not help much. There is always some aspect that has not been covered adequately. Perhaps a telepath or empath will one day write a book that can actually be interpreted to shed some light on the subject, but that day has not yet arrived."

Trowa had not asked for a psych lecture and Treize was not intending to turn this discussion into a minefield of psychology. He rubbed absently at his chin and met the confused gaze of the younger man.

"The fundamental truth when dealing with a telepath is that one can not lie, mind to mind. It is impossible. Nor can one lie to an empath, who feels the actual physical reaction a body generates to speaking a mistruth. There is nothing more devastating to the male psyche than to read from a woman's mind how much she is not enjoying sex, when she is making all the right moves that imply she is in ecstasy. Telepathy and empathy force honesty into any relationship."

"Oh." Trowa frowned, thinking that comment over and his head snapped up as he realized what Treize was getting at. "Oh!"

"For a telepath or empath the act of sex is physical, mental and emotional. There can be no separation between the body and the mind. There can be no deception at all between partners. Telepaths and Empaths know if they are making all the right moves; if their heat, their excitement, is reciprocated. Lying during sex is fine for the vast majority of the human species, but where certain talents of the mind exist, it has to be more than simply the act of sex. It genuinely must be honest sex."

"I've sat through the sex education course here at Tsuberov, we all have to, but they did not explain this in quite the same way as you have."

"Was your lecturer either a telepath or an empath?"

"No."

"Ah, well then, they might need to modify their roster to include the vagaries of sex involving Sensitive's. I might need to discreetly mention that to the appropriate personage." At Trowa's wary look Treize smiled. "Without mentioning any names, of course. A Prime has such a reputation that pulling these things out of the very ether goes little remarked upon, I assure you."

"Do you… have someone? Special."

The flicker of deep pain from that part of him so firmly controlled was squashed and soothed with a fleeting glimpse of white blonde hair and blue eyes, before he caught the errant thought. It simply would not do to salve that part of him with one who knew nothing of him. Amid telepaths that was one of the greatest no no's.

"At the present time, no, I have no significant other." Treize shrugged elegantly, dismissing the matter as being unimportant to their discussion. "Personal relationships between Sensitive's, or a Sensitive and non telepath or empath, are fraught with danger. To a Sensitive such as myself, an intimate relationship must be as fully mental and emotional as it is physical; or there simply is no fulfilment. The act of sex itself for a telepath is a dangerous affair."

Trowa straightened in surprise. "How? I don't understand."

"Generally physically, if the attraction is there, there will be physical release, a sexual climax. For a telepath-and to a lesser extent an Empath-there must be more. An empath will be satisfied with feeling a partner's pleasure and project himself into that pleasure; but it must be genuine pleasure. The Empath will know the difference and respond to it. How embarrassing, for all concerned, if your partner screeches and wails and flails about the bed as though they are in ecstasy and you know they are, in fact, merely putting on an act to end the encounter sooner."

"God." Trowa whispered.

"Honesty is imperative, Trowa. For a telepath there is greater danger. Your mind seeks to merge with the mind of your partner, seeking on a purely mental level, equal ecstasy to that which the body experiences. The greatest pleasure desirable would be for two telepaths to submerge themselves in the mind of the other, as their bodies blend together. A properly shielded empath or telepath can have sex with a non sensitive talent quite successfully, but if their shield should fail at the peak of the encounter the absolute worst can happen. In some cases a talent may be unable to perform at all if there is not a merging of minds. It is, unfortunately, a matter of trial and error."

He could see Trowa thinking that over and feel his confusion and determination growing in equal measure. Perhaps, he decided, Trowa had understood more than he had given him credit for, but thinking one understood was not the same as actually being in the heat of an encounter.

"For someone who is homosexual or lesbian there is rarely hope of attaining that perfect merge with the opposite sex. It is generally made clear the first time they indulge in an encounter with the opposite sex that something is very wrong. As a result the moment is generally ruined beyond repair. Some try repeatedly, especially if taught from infancy that homosexuality is wrong or not acceptable within the family."

"Is that what happened to you?"

He winced, but he should have expected the bright young man to make the connection and this was not a public conversation. He could trust Trowa to keep their discussion private and he was willing to go the extra yard to assist one who was facing the battle he had already faced.

"That's a little personal, Trowa." He cut off the stammered apology before it started with a wave of a hand. "Since you are trying to sort yourself out at this time, I can forgive it. Yes, I tried more than once to function sexually with females and with every attempt it became clearer I was only hurting myself. I was, at that time, fortunate enough to have a long conversation with one of the Primes in my field. She sensed what I was doing and sorted me out with cold efficiency. To this day, I thank her."

He could not resist a small smile at the memory of that most enlightening and supremely embarrassing, conversation. Gabriella was not one to accept anything but the truth and she had made quite an impression on his family. Some of those hardened politicians avoided her like the plague if they had forewarning of her presence.

"She made it easier for me to accept I was not going to be able to fulfil my family's expectations and marry the woman of their choice. Settling down to breed another generation of little Kushrenada's, for them to force into set moulds, was not going to happen as they desired."

Trowa winced. He knew what was expected in too many of the older families and that included the Barton dynasty. The Kushrenada's were old world nobility and he was personally sure Dekim Barton wanted egress into that dynasty and Mariemaia might be his key to unlock the door. He did not doubt Treize had had a hard time of admitting to himself and to his family, his sexual preference. Treize was, after all, The Kushrenada; at that time, the heir, never just a minor cousin.

"It would not have been easy." He whispered.

"No, it was not. I am fortunate in that in this day and age one does not need to fear the consequence of not passing on your genes, if you chance to be homosexual. Regardless of sexuality, if you are a Prime or high level psyonically active individual, it is expected you will breed and both consolidate and diversify your gene line. Taking formal contract for children is ideal for both purposes. It settles familial disputes over the succession and provides a new generation of talented individuals to keep the world turning."

"Is Mariemaia to be your heir for the Kushrenada inheritance?"

Treize shrugged, unwilling to go into the subject at this time. "She is an heir, though not necessarily THE heir."

"You are free to find the one who ideally compliments you, because it is confirmed you are homosexual and that fact is known. Your contemporaries accept your sexuality and it does not bother them? They will not protest when you seek him out? How will you know? When you find him, I mean."

Again the Duke shrugged, an elegant tilt of his shoulders. "I have had the pleasure of meeting all of the Primes in my field, amidst which there are bonded pairs who are fortunate enough to know that ultimate merging. I am the first in the group who is homosexual and given my past experience, it was a relief none of them are homophobic."

"They really accept it?"

"You can not hide such a reaction, Trowa. Not from a telepath or empath. Gabriella was a godsend, a breath of fresh air, who offered me more than hope. She gave me freedom to find the one person out in the wide world she assured me I would find, if I looked for them. We all have what we term soul mates. There is someone out there who will be the perfect compliment to me physically and mentally. Mind and body will literally be one, feeding off the other and in turn feeding the partner. It is the ideal for a telepathic joining."

"It sounds wonderful. Quatre seems so right to me, but we have not taken it beyond friendship."

"There is time. These things are best not hurried. Mind you, there is the chance that the ideal mental mate might actually be the one you least expect."

"How so?"

"Can you imagine my dismay, if all my mental buttons prove to be pushed by a female, not the male I am certain I am looking for?"

"But you… are… Can that happen?"

"So I have been told. My mind will seek the perfect mind with which to merge, as Quatre will subconsciously seek the perfect mind, perhaps the perfect emotion is a better description, to compliment his own. What a disaster it might be to a homosexual male if that perfect mind should be housed within a female body. The suggestion was made, more a cautionary action taken to ensure I did not seek my perfect mate only amid the male population. They tell me, if the meld is strong enough, the nature of the gender really makes no difference to the fulfilment involved in the merging." He sighed, dismissing the momentary depression. He really did not wish to entertain the notion. "You are not a high level telepath with empathic tendencies, so I sincerely doubt you would have similar difficulties."

"I… No, I doubt I will have that sort of trouble. I hope Quatre does not have that problem either. Does the perfect partner have to be telepath to telepath; empath to empath?"

"No. The human body and mind is a strange creature. Gabriella tells me not to worry and just go with the flow, it will happen when it happens and agonizing over it will serve only to waste my life. Quatre might well find that he merges best with a talent other than a telepath or empath. It depends on the individuals involved, but always remember honesty in sex is imperative when you love a Sensitive."

"I will remember. Honesty." Trowa drew a deep breath and pinked about the cheeks. "How… How do you deal with it? With the need? I mean, there must be occasions where you want… want to… Ah. Sorry." He ducked his head to hide the blush. "None of my business."

Treize only hoped he was not blushing as fiercely as Trowa. Full blown blushes were never pretty on red heads in his view and even though his hair was more auburn that red, that deep a blush would be most unbecoming.

"Yes, that is a little too personal." He gathered his wits about him and stood, moving to the window and presenting his back to the younger man, though he did not once remove his monitoring touch. "Do you believe Quatre Winner returns the depth of your regard for him?"

Trowa felt and no doubt looked, exceedingly uncomfortable with the question. Treize did not turn to face him as yet, giving him time to recover himself. It was an extremely personal question, but Treize had permitted Trowa to trample very ungracefully on some very personal ground and Trowa knew he owed the man. His talk with the Prime had been informative and had raised questions about his sexuality he needed to answer before he made any mistakes by acting too quickly. He needed to consider what he had learned and settle how he viewed himself and his sexuality.

"Yes. Yes, I believe he does."

"Ah." Treize turned to face the youth. "How far beyond friendship have you taken it? You are not open with others about the depth of your relationship? What about between yourselves, how honest have you been?"

"We have not moved anywhere near a sexual relationship, but we are more than just friends. Much more, I believe. Quatre is worried about what his family will say and do when they learn he is not exactly heterosexual."

Treize arched a delicately forked eyebrow, intrigued. "Interesting that you phrase it that way; 'Not exactly heterosexual.' Is he, then, bisexual? "

"No." Trowa whispered, his head lowered and his hands clenched tightly together. "He is homosexual, but he is very aware of the religion his family have followed for centuries. They are of Arab descent and the family are traditional Muslims in the matter of sex."

Treize had known the religious view would be a monumental problem for a homosexual to overcome. Devout Muslims took a hard line when it came to homosexuality.

"You openly acknowledge your attraction between each other?"

"Yes."

He detected not the faintest trace of hesitation in Trowa's emotional gradient and knew the younger man was certain he and Quatre understood each other.

"How many people know? Honestly, Trowa. How many people know you both lean toward each other and it is leading to something beyond deep friendship?"

"Quatre shares the same suite as Duo and Zechs and Zechs is probably going to be a Prime Empathic Telepath. I have no doubt he knows and Duo is very observant. While they have not said much, I know they know that we… "

Treize watched him, following the dawning revelation as Trowa made the mental connections. He did not move from his place by the window, simply stood and allowed the younger man to work his way through the facts.

"Quatre roomed in that dormitory block. I heard there were plumbing problems in the building and some of the students were placed in a new suite… Was… I…" He stared up at the silhouette of the Prime, the windows bright light making a shadow of him. "Tell me Quatre has nothing to do with the body."

Trowa was quite bright, more than astute enough to put the pieces together. How much he guessed would depend on the round of rumours he had heard prior to this conversation. He was hitting close to the correct scenario and Treize already knew what he was going to have to do to spare the entire group distress.

"Duke Kushrenada. Please. Is Quatre somehow involved in this murder?"

"The refrigerator came from his suite." Treize murmured.

"From his suite… The broken furniture too?" At the small nod of confirmation Trowa felt his heart clench. "He would have told me if the suite had been trashed last night! He would not have kept quiet and Duo would never have been able to keep it secret!"

/An interesting assessment of Mr. Maxwell./ Treize mused. "Quatre Winner and his roommates were settled in a new suite last night, because the body was discovered in their commonly assigned rooms. It was their original suite where the murder took place. I would not consider having them stay in that suite. It was also their original suite that was vandalized, by person's unknown, through the night."

"But why?" Trowa whispered. "I understand why you moved them; Zechs and Quate would definitely have picked up on something having happened in the suite. What I can't understand is why anyone, this murdered man, would have been in their suite… and why was he murdered? I don't… understand."

"As yet, neither do we. We are trying to determine the why and I will have to ask your cooperation in keeping this information away from Quatre and the others. Given the uninhabitable condition of the dormitory building at the present time, all three, with a few other students from the same dormitory block, have been moved off campus in the interim. I apologize for any crimp in your plans this action may cause, but I judge their safety to be of more importance than you romancing the Winner heir."

"Yes. Yes, I agree. Quatre… is he the target? Or is it one of the others? Was it just a coincidence the man was murdered in their suite? No, how could it be coincidence if the suite was trashed the next night?"

Treize arched a delicately forked eyebrow at the prattle bursting from the younger man. He could feel the pace of Trowa's thoughts picking up speed and was careful not to probe. A great deal of thinking was going on in that young mind and he really did not need to be inundated with additional thoughts of young love. One thing in Trowa's avalanche of thought had caught his interest and Treize leaned forward slightly to attract his attention.

"Why would you consider one of the other boys in the suite to be the target, if any of them are involved? I was led to believe there is nothing remarkable about either Mr. Maxwell or Mr. Marquise."

Trowa hesitated, chewing on his lower lip as he eyed the Prime, trying to decide if he was being humoured or taken seriously. The Prime's attention was fully focused on him and there was nothing that suggested amusement in his stance.

"Well… It is true Quatre has the highest profile of the three but… Well… Zechs is almost a Prime, isn't he? Prime Telepathic Empaths, like all other Primes, are rare enough to be high profile. You are one and you know how many of you there are not. I just assumed… Wouldn't someone pay a reasonable price for a Prime if they could manage to get their hands on him? And Duo, he has that pet project of his with the space suits. From what I have been told about the project, if he is successful it could revolutionize some areas of space technology. Wouldn't that be enough of a reason to target him?"

Treize frowned and began to pace the length of the window, considering Trowa's words carefully. "You raise a valid point. Quatre, while he does have the highest profile, he is not the only one who might be considered to be of value. We do not know that any of the students are involved in any capacity, major or minor but… Yes, you raise a very valid point. I have to remind you, yet again, of the value in keeping this information secret. We can not afford for anyone to learn of what we have discussed." He held up a hand to forestall the interruption he could see was coming. "Not even Quatre and his friends. You can not discuss it with Quatre and given his talent he would know you are hiding something as soon as he 'feels' you. I assure you, Trowa, he is under observation and in no danger."

Owl eyed the younger man stared at the Prime, who was careful not to loom over him. Bright as a button, Treize reminded himself, aware Trowa had made the mental leap to know what was coming.

"I can establish a mental block, placing this conversation behind a secured shield. Quatre may feel your tension and your worry, but he could not pry into the why and you would not be capable of telling him what it is that is shielded."

"I..." Trowa hesitated, but he knew the tenacity of the blonde and though he was only a level 5 telepath, Quatre knew how to batter down Trowa's defences and get him to talk. "I… Quatre is tenacious. Could you…"

"Could I…?" Treize prompted.

If his empathy warned him something was up, Quatre would worry at him until he buckled. "Could you… well… cover my reaction so his empathy might not pick up my concern? I would prefer not to be made to forget, but that might be preferable to having Quatre digging around for information I can't give him."

Treize offered a small smile. "I think I can come up with something to give you some protection from the insatiable curiosity of Mr. Winner. I will set a shield in place that will keep you from being scanned and I will also set an overlay. A different set of emotions will trigger whenever you chance to think about what is best kept secret at the present time."

Trowa blanched, aware of just how powerful a telepath you had to be to tinker with another person's mind and not cause damage. "I won't do anything stupid, will I? Under the influence of this shield."

Treize caught a clear mental impression of a theatrical stage and weird antics by a cluster of people. He could not resist the temptation to have just a little more fun.

"I assure you I will not have you act like a chicken falling out of a tree, whenever you chance to think of our encounter today." He smirked at the younger man. "Trust me, Dear Boy. We need only keep the shield in place for a few days. It should not take too long to sort this matter out."

t.b.c.

Karina Robertson 2007

————————

Notes:

Treize Kushrenada : Level 10 Sending/Receiving Telepath + Receiving and Projecting Empath at Level 10. Prime rated. Agency Operative contracted term of 5 years with 2 years remaining. 25yrs of age Training facility: Psychic Institute Munich Division.

Trowa Barton : Psi student, 2nd year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Clairaudient ability, Level 6, projected rating L8. Unrecognized talent, Medium. 19/20 years of age

Chang Wu Fei: Level 9 Telekinetic + Receiving Telepath Level 5. Agency Operative contracted term of 10 years with 8 years remaining, 22yrs of age Training facility:Psychic Institute Luxemburg Division.

Quatre Rababer Winner: Psi student, 2nd year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Current Level 5 Telepath, projected Level 7, Current Level Receiving Empath 9.3, projected Level 10, Prime. Current Sending Empath Level 2, projected Level 4. Colony of Origin, L4 Cluster 18 years of age


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 16/??

Author: Karina

/…/ Thoughts

/.../ Telepathy

… Empathic Impression translated from emotion into symbolic words.

… Flashback / Memory May now be italics because of formatting issues

Chapter Sixteen

There was going to be entirely too many hours in this particular day.

He ached in every bone and muscle and the low throbbing in his temple told him clearly enough he should remove himself from the University and closet himself in his apartment. Much more stress and he might slip up in maintaining his shields.

/A disturbing thought, but one I need to consider. At least I have Trowa safely under the Registrar's care and I know he will be reassessed./

He could not blame the young man for wishing he could avoid the inevitable, but at least Trowa was realistic in his outlook on life. Unpleasant as life all too often was, Trowa knew you could not truly avoid responsibility. Eventually it came around to nibble at your arse, if you were lucky and take a healthy chunk out of your life if you were less than fortunate.

Fate had an uncanny habit of visiting herself upon those who least wished to make her acquaintance.

He had made it plain he was to be kept informed on Trowa's development, having his interest in the younger man noted in Trowa's files. No one, not even Dekim Barton, would gainsay the interest of a Prime who had noted a talent and brought the individual in for testing.

Taking a deep breath he ran a hand through his hair and considered the remainder of the day and all of the possibilities inherent in the investigation. So much still to do, so many unanswered questions and Trowa had added to them. His shoulders pulled back and he straightened in his seat, undefeated. He was tired and he was mentally sore, but it was nothing he could not deal with. He had a few minutes and before something else required his attention he should work on strengthening his shields.

/Enough to get through the day and a thorough maintenance workout tonight, when I can finally relax./

He settled back in Otto's comfortable chair, allowing it to cushion his aching body. He really had to insist the Agency provide him with one of these, his own chair in his office fell rather short in equalling this one for comfort. He could play the picky Prime, just once and insist on a replacement. A Prime was supposed to be kept as happy as possible after all and it was only a chair he wanted.

Resting his head back he worked his shoulders into the chair padding, sighing softly in sheer pleasure. After a moment he drew a measured breath, focusing his thoughts as he had been trained. A second breath, deeper and slower to release, allowing much of his tension and discontent with his life in general to seep out with the expulsion of air. Long, slow exhale, emptying his lungs, letting go the little things that annoyed him. Slowly, deeply he inhaled a third time, filling his lungs to the point of bursting before once again exhaling, slowly and thoroughly, and nestling his awareness within the safe cocoon of his shields.

His mental investigation of his shields revealed a ragged, stress-tattered mess. It rather reminded him of a moth eaten sheet being held together by a few strategically placed but stretched threads. An overvisualization, he decided but it was deplorable he had permitted his shields to deteriorate and he could not allow it to continue. If he did not watch himself he would lose his protection from the minds and emotions of others and, stripped bare, he would fall into insanity, taking a goodly portion of innocents in his immediate vicinity with him.

The damage was not irreparable, he poked and tested the shield and sought out the weakest points. Some timely maintenance would permit him to conclude this case and keep everyone safe from him. Somehow he had been graced with a break in the day's activities and had a little time on his hands. Not even Chang Wu Fei could gainsay him the required time to perform repairs. Setting alerts to warn him should company chance to enter Otto's office, namely his partner or Yuy, or Otto himself, he turned a part of his attention to the task of repairing what was damaged, whilst giving a greater part of himself over to the task of reviewing the days activities.

For an instant long pale hair and blue eyes swam in his 'sight' and he could not avoid the momentary flush of pleasure, which was as much mental as physical. Just a moment to take pleasure in the purely physical aspect of the younger man and briefly play with the idea that in the future there might be more than simply admiring him from afar. He was very soothing on the eye, after all. Captivating. Enchanting.

/Enough of that, Treize. Keep within professional limits./

It was nice to have a purely personal moment in which to consider the finer things in life and he had always had an appreciative eye for beauty.

He had the time now to contact the other Prime talents and inform them of this prospective new Prime. Segmenting his consciousness to work on multiple layers had been a vital part of the training of his talent. A fleeting tendril of thought was sent out, specifically designed as an alert to the eight other individuals who, like he, carried the full burden of a Prime's abilities.

One by one they touched him in return, their warmth filling him, enfolding him as only purely mind to mind contact could. He drew their presence around him, snuggled himself within their attention and knew they too shared in the wonder and security of this unique rapport. In the briefest flash of thought, in this intimate merging of minds, they could exchange information that would take hours of spoken conversation.

He put forward his meeting with the young man for them to share, the touch of the mind developing as once theirs had developed. They shared his pleased surprise at the offered open contact, the glimpse of a young man who was far from certain where life would lead him and the fear that went with that uncertainty. They responded as he had expected them to, fiercely and protectively.

Zechs Merquise would find he was not as alone as he feared.

They shared their curiosity with him, their need to know more of the prospective Prime's range and specialties, where his strengths and weaknesses lay. Overall, of what Treize could share with them, they determined Merquise's greatest weakness lay in his uncertainty and belief he was at his Guardian's mercy. An overwhelming agreement was reached, in less than the blink of an eye, to take a hand in matters and determine, through their own private investigation, the identity of the individual and the driving force behind the Guardian's intentions.

Overwhelming determination no Prime would be the tool of possibly nefarious schemes filled Treize's awareness. Satisfaction rose within him, shared with their combined awareness and with light touches of farewell the contact fell away. He need no longer concern himself with worrying over the future of one of their own. They were a very select family and, unbeknownst to one particular individual, the nine were already ten. Merquise would know it soon enough, the University and his Guardian would learn it before him.

Treize grinned within his secure cocoon and allowed the lingering warmth of the contact to flow about him. He always felt warm and fuzzy following a full merge of the nine. Warm and fuzzy was possibly an inappropriate description of the sensation but it was, to him, the closest way to describe the lingering pleasure of their contact.

He was not alone.

No matter the daily grind, the pull and ebb of his life as the Agency Prime, he was not alone. He had needed that reassurance more than he had realized and he permitted himself to wallow in it far longer than he should.

The eight would determine which of them would be best suited to investigate the circumstances surrounding their fledgling Prime and he suspected they would choose the irrepressible Gypsy Prime. Gabriella would tear apart the university to gain the information if she needed to. She was a primordial force, unstoppable once she set her mind to something and he had found no one who could stand against her.

Of one thing he was certain of, you did not mess around with anyone Gabriella took under her wing. One look at Merquise and she would get that gleam in her eye, the mothering instinct would take over and Merquise would probably not thank him.

Treize grinned happily to himself, ignoring the little shiver of foreboding. He needed to get his mind shield repaired before Gabriella turned up, or he would be the one slinking into hiding for fear of her, not Merquise.

/She is, above all, a force of nature. You cannot fight a force of nature, it is impossible. Damned if I don't think the woman could out blow a hurricane./

She would, of course, profess to have respect for the confidentiality of the case he was working on and then proceed to poke her big gypsy nose into everything, not merely concern herself with Merquise. Though if Trowa was correct there may well be more to this affair than they had assumed.

/He has a valid point./ Treize permitted his warm fuzzy feeling to fade beneath the rising concern for the case. Gabriella slid from his mind and he considered what he had learned from Trowa.

/Quatre is certainly the highest profile of the three, but he is not the only one of importance. Maxwell is a Sweeper Prodigy, and if he continues to shine he will be a much sought after commodity. I doubt the Sweepers will keep him under wraps for too long, his ideas have too much benefit to improve safety conditions when working in space. As for Merquise, he will be a Prime talent, I have no doubt of that. It is more than possible Winner is not the target… He is certainly not the only possibility for a target./

He had taken his time about setting the protective shield in Trowa Barton's mind. With the young man's permission he had scanned his memory of seeing the shade of the murdered man and he knew without doubt Trowa would have a high talent as a Medium. He was awakening late to the ability, but what Treize had sensed suggested he was awakening strong and would need all the protection training could give him.

/We assumed Quatre Winner was the target./

He dismissed that as assumption in light of the facts. He needed to get this right, sorting out supposition from fact and settling in his own mind what the likely scenario was that he was investigating.

/In actual fact I was informed Winner was the target when I was assigned to this case./

He considered the file he had been given and the information it contained on the ESUN Security Agency's initial investigation of the murder. On reflection he was unhappy with certain assumptions made and the lack of written evidence to support those suppositions.

/What evidence have I actually seen to determine Winner is the exclusive target for this madness? Let me take this one step further. There is irrefutable evidence of at least two unauthorized individuals in that suite. There was the John Doe and John Doe's killer. Two unauthorized entries into the building… for the moment I have to believe they were both unauthorized./

Otto would not be pleased if one or more of his staff had granted access to unauthorized individuals. Heads would undoubtedly roll and the Security Chief was not a man you wanted to cross. Otto struck Treize as being something more than he appeared to be and it annoyed him he could not put his finger exactly on what was wrong about him.

/Not even something specifically wrong, just… off. Something other than what he obviously looks to be. I don't know, there is something there and if he is more than he professes to be, then why not others on the staff?/

Checks had been run, of course. The children of the richest, most famous and influential citizens of the ESUN attended Tsuberov and the security was accordingly tight. If someone had planted agents amid the Universities Security Service, their cover would have to be airtight to have escaped detection. He would need to acquire a few personal items from Otto and anyone else who aroused his 'something is not right itch' and have a Sensitive acquaintance of his do a reading for him. He wanted an objective point of view, nothing coloured by his own perceptions. He needed a completely objective scan to see if his perceptions were on focus and he had no reason to doubt himself. Something was odd about this case, something more than simply an unexplained and extremely suspicious death.

/We have two unknowns, victim and killer. If the killer is the stalker and of that I am fairly confident, then I know his sanity is in serious doubt after reading the suite. He is psychologically on edge, in a fluctuating stage. His perceptions are undergoing a transition and what I sensed suggests what was not sexually orientated might, very soon, take on sexual overtones in which the target might yet become endangered./

He was of the opinion the stalker, the killer, had discovered what he perceived to be a threat, the victim. Had the threat been to the killer personally or to the object of his infatuation? That was a question that would need serious contemplation and he would need to meditate on the reading taken in the suite. There would be something there to point him in the right direction, he was sure. It was just a matter of having the time and opportunity to go deeply enough into his impressions, to read the little things he had missed in his initial assessment.

He would need to see Ms Bloom too. Her memories would undoubtedly hold the key to the investigation. He would need to ensure a Medium was brought in to contact the shade of the victim and that could take time. Victims of violent crime were often hard to deal with and he would need to insist the Medium be one specializing in violent crime abuse. If the stalker was proven to be the killer, then they needed to know who John Doe was and what he had been doing in the suite.

He had been assured John Doe was not a member of the Universities Security Staff, or a member of the staff in general, teaching, cleaning or cooking and not a groundsman of some kind either. The individual was unknown to the staff, unlisted in the records and therefore not welcome on the grounds… but he had made it into a dormitory house despite what Treize admitted was a tight security set up.

/Intriguing./

Maxwell, Winner and Merquise. Which of the three was the target? Was it Winner, as the ESUN Security agents designated, or was it one of the others? Winner certainly seemed the obvious choice, he would command a high ransom should someone manage to abduct him, but was this intended to be an abduction? What he had sensed in the suite suggested rather more personal reasons for the stalker's presence.

Might the stalker have stumbled into an abduction plot? Had the stalker taken out a would-be abductor and saved Winner from at the least discomfort, at the most possibly death?

/There are a dozen ways this scenario could be played and make complete sense. There is not enough time now to dwell on the complexities, but I need to gather more data and then meditate and try to fit the pieces into the neatest pattern. See what makes the most sense./

He needed coffee, he decided and turning his full attention to his shields he spun an extra layer of protection, moulding the protection through the tattered fabric, strengthening and enhancing; assuring himself he need not fear for the protection of others.

He would have time to effect perfect shields that were what Gabriella termed 'pretty' at a later time. She liked 'pretty' things and insisted on finesse and perfection. He was more concerned at the moment with functional and secure. He would have time to neaten up the shields into something more pleasing to the Gypsy Prime before she could make an appearance in his life. Warned of Merquise as the other Primes now were, none of them were free to drop everything and turn up on his doorstep with a few hours' notice.

/Thankfully./ He thought, amused.

Gabriella took some getting used to and she would undoubtedly be in full force as she sorted the troubles of the young 'soon to be' Prime into an order that pleased Gabriella.

/Not that I have anything to complain about. She did right by me and I can never thank her enough… but she does take some getting used to. After one of her tirades you feel in need of a vacation. At the furthest ends of the Earth from her./

Afternoon sunlight streamed through the window, spreading across the desk and warming his face and chest. He stirred, taking steady, measured breaths as he gathered the solidity of a body about him. He was secure in the protection of repaired shields, though there was still a lot of work to be done on said shields before they were as they should be. His body felt heavy and weighed his perceptions down, grounding him in solid Earthy reality. It always felt like a come down to feel the demanding needs of a physical form, especially one that was aching as his was.

Sitting up he stretched, working at his shoulders for a moment before he stirred himself to see about that need for coffee. Making a fresh pot he lamented the coffee beans, wishing for something a little different. Otto had decent beans, Arabica, but he felt more in need for something just a little more special. Right about now he could do justice to a well-brewed White Russian blend. He could enjoy a little spoiling and he was hours yet from returning to his apartment where he could indulge the fancy.

/By the time I get home I suppose I will have lost the urge. I'll probably microwave one of those supposedly gourmet frozen dinners, perfectly balanced for energy content to replace a day's energy output and there after fall into bed and simply die./

Thrilling evenings were his forte, after all. His solitary existence and aversion to the pathetic offerings the mass media companies were offering at the moment left a great deal to be desired. He would need to get in a few more books and some more titles for his music collection. Something classical, strings certainly, a little serious, nothing frivolous, Beethoven probably or for a total change, perhaps Elgar. He was not in the mood for Strauss, but he supposed he might be in a day, or a week, or a month.

It would be so much better if he had a partner, someone to come home to at night and share a decent conversation with. Someone who understood him and whom he understood.

/Ah, don't go there, you fool. That's just begging for trouble./

The image tried to swim into his mind, but he was on guard against it. He refused to see the flowing blonde hair that somehow he knew would be like silk to touch, regardless of whether it felt coarse to others or not. It would always be like silk to him, so fine and he was sure there would be masses of it.

/Christ, think case files. Anything but blonde hair and blue eyes. There is nothing there and if I don't get this case sorted out there will never be the possibility of something developing./

He had been so careful to be professional and he must not permit himself to fall into the trap of making this personal. That could wait until there was no business standing between him and the object of his fancy. It was fancy, nothing more at this time and he must not permit it to be more than a fleeting moment of wondering if they would fit together. That was simply human nature, to see someone and wonder if they might have something special. That he could safely do, but anything beyond that must not be. Not amid telepaths.

Cradling the freshly poured coffee cup he retreated to Otto's chair and sipped, tilting his head back against the headrest and sighed. Concentrate on the task at hand. That was what he was here for, what he was employed for. Intelligence, nothing more was required to be noted, certainly not a primitive reaction to an attractive individual.

"We need to rethink the evidence, make certain we have the right target."

Chang Wu Fei was generating a great deal of aggravation as he entered the room, his temper startling Treize into sitting up and planting his feet firmly on the floor and the mug on the desk

"What do you mean by the right target?" Wu Fei stormed over to the nearest chair and practically threw himself into it as the door behind him slammed.

"Should I ask what has aggravated you?"

A slender hand slashed through the air and he settled back into the chair then immediately was on his feet again, moving to the credenza to pour himself coffee.

"It is nothing. Yuy has been recalled to his command centre."

Well, there was nothing in that to explain what had irritated the man. Chang's temper had always been uncertain, he was prone to flying into mini-rages, quick to anger and equally quick to defuse said anger, but his volatility was enough to leave him the least desired of partners amid the Agency investigators. Treize had generally ignored the bulk of the sudden mood swings, aware the man had not had an easy past and Wu Fei was very good at doing his job. The temper tantrums had, he was assured, been worse before Chang had been partnered with the Prime.

Treize was uncertain what had earned him the distinction of being partnered with Chang in the first place, but they had worked well together. It seemed the frustrations of the case might be birthing one of those temperamental moments Chang was infamous for.

"What did you do with that annoying student?"

Treize resisted the urge to chuckle. He did not need to further aggravate the man, but some days he so wished to laugh in the man's face. Chang's serious attitude he could deal with, he often needed the steadying influence of the agent, but these mood swings had led to other agents commenting on female agents rubbing against Chang once too often at the wrong time of the month. Treize had found it hard the first time he had overheard such comments, not to dissolve into laughter and have to explain to Chang what had amused him. He was rather doubtful Wu Fei would find it so amusing.

"That annoying student was Trowa Barton, of the Barton family, very big in the colonies, I understand. He is a cousin to my daughter and a rather bright young man."

"Trowa. I thought the Barton heir was older, in his thirties." A thunderous scowl had dark eyebrows drawn low and irritation fairly dripped off him.

"This Trowa is not the Barton heir, but a fifth or sixth cousin, I believe." Treize returned, watching as Chang filled a cup and stalked back to his seat.

He almost asked what had the man's shorts in a bind, but decided discretion was the better part of valour. If he permitted the man to blow a little steam off, the meeting would go more smoothly and he might be spared a full display of the Chang acidic whit.

"So? Where is he?"

"I spent an informative hour interviewing him before I sealed the memory of the encounter behind a security screen."

"What do you think you are doing! You messed with the mind of a Tsuberov student?"

Treize refused to flinch from the bellow and levelled a glare at his partner. "Grow up, Chang. I'm a Prime and I am investigating a case we do not want bandied about a University's gossip route. Or do you really want the intricacies of this case known to everyone?"

A grunt and scowl was his only response and Treize returned his glare, his temper rising despite his best efforts to remain calm. This was obviously going to be one of their rarer discussions when whatever was said rubbed the other the wrong way. If he had any sense he would simply walk out the door and go home and his partner and his temper tantrums be damned.

"Following our discussion on the incident, Trowa requested I secure the details of the entire afternoon behind shields, given the amount of telepaths and empaths present on the grounds. His emotional reaction to what he knows has also been dealt with, with the placement of a false emotional shield. Instead of getting nervous if he is questioned, he will emanate curiosity and innocence to any monitoring empath. Telepaths will be diverted to a false memory, completely innocent, of course."

"That is complex work, Treize. Even I know such an intrusion into a person's mind should be carried out under controlled conditions and be sanctioned by Agency officials before action is taken."

Blue eyes narrowed in warning and his fingers tightened around the mug as he glared at his partner. Who did Chang think he was, to cast doubt on his professional integrity and skills?

"I am a registered Prime talent, Chang, not some schoolboy playing with things best left alone. Trowa has had a mind shield placed to stop anyone from peeking where we do not want them. He agreed to the procedure, fully aware of the details of placing such a shield which, I assure you, I am fully qualified to place, out of controlled conditions. I am not an amateur, Mr. Chang, I will thank you to remember it."

Wu Fei blinked, taken aback by the steely tone of the Prime. "Well let us hope you did not fail in your work then. I was under the impression your shields were at risk and you were intent on not placing unnecessary strain on yourself."

It was not so much the words themselves, but the tone of voice that set his hackles up. Treize counted silently to ten, willing himself not to respond to that goading tone. He did not particularly care what had aggravated the man, but he was not going to lower himself to the same level. Drawing a deeper breath he chose to ignore the goading remarks.

"Trowa has been taken to the Registrar and my recommendation he be reassessed will keep him occupied for the remainder of the day. As an interesting aside, it turns out he is Quatre Winner's boyfriend."

"So Winner is gay."

Treize caught the distinct emotional equivalent of what came perilously close to a sneer. His partner had been reared to specific old fashioned values, and strict heterosexuality was right up there with showering twice a day and brushing his teeth. His disapproval of deviating from that sexuality had been clear from their first introduction and there had been friction between them because of Treize's sexuality on past occasions. Chang usually kept his disapproval to himself, making no comments, though he was well aware his partner could sense his emotions.

"Yes, Mr. Winner is discovering his sexuality at the present time and having difficulty coming to terms with it, especially considering his cultural upbringing."

Chang considered that comment for a moment before grunting. "Muslim?"

"Yes."

"Ah. Well they will settle him into a proper relationship when they find out."

"Young Mr. Winner will sort his own preferences out in the fullness of time, with no assistance from anyone else." Treize did not care if Chang reacted to the warning in his tone or not, he was quickly becoming convinced he should have walked out of the door on Chang's arrival. "I believe you will find at least Merquise, if not Maxwell as well, is homosexual. Perhaps their mutual sexuality is a primary factor in why the three of them get on so well, considering the diversity of their backgrounds."

Chang's lower lip curled with distaste. "They may all be homosexual?"

"Possibly, however we are not here to discuss their sexual preferences. We have an investigation to discuss and Barton made an observation I found to be of particular interest."

Chang grunted softly, his scowl not lightening in the least. He set his cup on the desk and glowered at his partner. "About Merquise. You had no right to do that. Commander Une will go ballistic when she finds out you exceeded your authority and actually asked to see Merquise. Nor will she be amused you practically offered him a position at the Agency."

Treize stilled, something deep within him wanted desperately to claw its way out and rend the irritating man limb from limb. He knew his partner had not been amused at his request, but he had more responsibilities than simply working for the Agency. He was a Prime and he had found another with the same unique set of talents. Any of the other eight Primes would have done exactly as he had.

"Une's pleasure, or displeasure, is of no concern to me and will be dealt with in due time. As it happens, I did not offer Mr. Marquise a position at the Agency. I merely suggested we might have occasion to work together at some later time. It is called being polite, Chang."

"Same thing." Chang snapped. "You overstepped your mark even talking to him."

"Being polite is far from the same thing. In polite society there are set protocols for meet and greet, getting to know someone and assessing a person you might have occasion to meet in a professional capacity in future years. Mr. Merquise is excelling in my own specialist field, it is only polite to make his acquaintance."

Chang's emotional gradient spiked and Treize slammed down another layer of shields, protecting himself from the irritation the other man was generating. Wu Fei was spoiling for a fight and Treize had no idea why, but he was not inclined to satisfy his partner's petty grievances.

"What you were doing was allowing your hormones to interfere with the case. He's a pretty face, true enough, but it is also true he has nothing to do with this case. You need to concentrate on the matter at hand, this investigation and not on the shape of the blonde's arse."

Irate sapphire eyes fastened on Chang and he positively snarled, his rage at the accusation rearing and almost escaping his control. He had been scrupulous in observing the protocols during his contact with Merquise, only too aware he found the younger man attractive. For that very reason he had been extra careful and he was damned if he was going to be accused of what amounted to sexual harassment. Nor was he going to put up with being harassed by his partner because of his sexuality.

"Stop being an ass, Chang. When have I ever permitted my professional life to be disrupted by my personal life? Not, of course, that I actually have a private life. As a general rule I spend sixteen plus hours a day working for that woman on case after case and for what? So another overfull file can be dumped on my desk, that's what!"

Treize was not aware he was on his feet, the mug slammed down on the desk and he was moving around the desk, eyes burning. Despite his shields he was generating a ripening anger that sobered his partner more than any words ever could.

"It's all very well for you to sprout off about personal lives, you have a mate and a private life to go back to. I am human, in case you had not noticed, and I might pause to admire the scenery occasionally, but that does not mean I mix business with pleasure."

Wu Fei, suddenly aware of what he had implied, watched in stunned amazement as the tall man strode from the room, giving every indication if he dared to follow he would be hit with something nasty. All of his anger at the frustrations of the day, of needing to deal with idiots and incompetents drained away as he realized he was alone in the room and he could still feel the anger the Prime had been generating.

"Shit."

He was out of the chair and running for the door, anxious to repair what he had damaged before the Prime could get away from the security building. He did not want anyone else to be exposed to his partner's anger and he was well aware he was at fault. He had known Treize was working with shields at less than optimum efficiency due to his workload, but he had truly not meant to imply the man was on the hunt for more than information on a case. He was well aware the Prime gave more of himself to his work than most other operatives of the Agency.

"Treize?" He paused at the door, watching the man stride away, his broad back ramrod straight. "I'm sorry. That was uncalled for and unprofessional of me."

Not so much as the twitch of a shoulder or a movement of the russet haired head suggested Kushrenada was listening to him. The hallway was deserted and Treize was heading for the main door leading to the foyer and the main entrance. Wu Fei winced at the thought of his partner walking away from the case and thumbing his aristocratic nose under Une's equally as uppity nostrils and he shuddered.

He was at fault for this rift in their partnership and he would wear the blame for the uncharacteristic temper tantrum from the Prime. Une would not be amused by the incident and he could expect to be sanctioned and, he admitted, rightfully so. He was uncertain what it was that had incited his sniping; he knew, after all, his partner was homosexual and he had accepted that. At least he had thought he had.

Commander Une would have to be notified, there was no avoiding that if he could not get the Prime to listen to him. Not since their first days together as partners had he ticked the man off as thoroughly as he had now. He could hope he could get the man to listen to his apology, but he would do the honourable thing and admit his lapse of judgement to the appropriate authorities. Une would not be exactly forgiving, given her troubles in dealing with Kushrenada and if the Prime went off the rails his own life partner would become involved.

Now she would not be forgiving. He would have more grief from her than he would have from the Agency in whatever disciplinary action might be taken against him. Sally liked the Prime and he was only her husband.

He sped down the hallway in pursuit, daring the threat of being slapped down by a Prime talent, a scenario that could maim at the least and kill at worst. He knew the capabilities of telepaths and empaths only too well. Treize was more than capable of applying a psychic slap that would knock him out for a day or more, or force his mind into living nightmares in a never ending cycle. It was equally possible with his empathy he could wring every emotion from suicidal depression to volcanic rage, snivelling fear to hysterical laughter out of him. That was a horrendous thought, to be forced to live an emotion until released, for hours, days, even for life. A Prime talent could do so much in the heat of anger.

/What the hell do I think I am afraid of? This is Treize, for God sake. He's too civilized to be abusive with his talent./

Of course, it was equally possible the man could round on him and take a purely physical swing at him and knock him out. Kushrenada outweighed him and towered over him, having the advantage of reach and kept himself in prime physical condition.

/Again with the wild exaggerations. Treize has a long fuse, once ignited it burns like magnesium, a violent, brilliant light, quick to burn out./

But he did need to apologize. He owed the Prime an eloquent and honest apology for casting aspirations on his professional conduct, not to mention insulting the man's personal honour.

He was gaining on him and the door to the lobby was only three strides ahead of Kushrenada. He had to be quick, before anyone in the building witnessed the rift in the team. They had a professional image to maintain.

"Treize…"

/Fuck off, Chang!/

Wu Fei reeled, his back slamming into the wall, his mind cringing from the force of the mind against his own. He watched as the door swung open and then closed, his body trembling from head to toe in reaction. Treize had been ticked off with him before, but he had never given him the equivalent of a slap across the face with his talent. Anger had rolled off the Prime, seeped through his own mind and produced an answering surge of adrenaline and left him trembling. He needed to work off the adrenaline in his system, to quiet the need to hit something that was not his own and he was not going through that door until the Prime had time to leave the building.

He was not stupid enough to present himself in sight of his partner until Kushrenada had had time to cool off and regain control.

/Damn. I don't… I never said anything to produce that kind of reaction surely. At least, I don't think I did./

He needed to call the incident in. Tracking his partner himself would be too dangerous and he could not afford to have it generally known there was an irate Prime talent on the loose. They would need to track the Prime, follow him discreetly from a distance and give him time to regain control. The Agency was uniquely suited to perform such surveillance.

They would, of course, need to monitor incidents in his immediate vicinity, for fear his emotional state would unduly affect the population unfortunate enough to be around him. It might even be necessary to bring in a team of projecting empaths to quiet down instances of spontaneous violence triggered by the Prime's psychic leaking. Personally he doubted Treize would project his own anger, the man was too well trained and conscious of the vulnerability of the population, but it was a standard precaution with high talent incidents. Contain the fallout, keep control of the situation.

/I need to call Une./

He knew when to retreat and he knew when to scream for help.

He needed to find a private place to make the call and set emergency procedures in operation. He would then present himself before his Commander to face the music. He did not need to further aggravate the man and his presence in Kushrenada's heightened awareness would do just that.

/My car. I need to give him a few minutes to get clear of me and then I need to get to my car phone./

0000000000000000000000000

His feet hurt.

Treize depressed the plunger with steady pressure, blue eyes still darkened with temper, though it was more rational and subdued at this time. He was tired, walking for hours as he had working out his aggravation, not just with Chang but with the state of his life, led to exhaustion. He was aching in body and mind and he could not say he was content to be in his apartment.

It was the need to find a quiet place, a place where the thoughts and emotions of others did not encroach on him that drove him back here, not a desire to come home. It was not home, merely a place for him to stay when away from his work, a safe area, where others could not hurt his sensitive perceptions.

That was not a home.

/A safe house./

That was closer to what this apartment was to him. Luxuriously appointed, though there was nothing exactly frivolous here, such was not in his nature to own. It was functional, comfortable and psychically shielded, the greatest comfort to a telepathic empath of all.

It was safe but it was not home.

Home was a family, at worst brothers and sisters who radiated comfortable sibling rivalry. He was an only child, but he had felt what it was like to have siblings from his numerous cousins' minds as he had grown up. He knew what it was like to be surrounded by people and still have privacy, to be one of a whole which was a unit. He knew what it was to be alone, adrift, aching for contact, desperate to find in another exactly what he sought, someone who was seeking as he did for exactly what it was he craved. What he ached for was to find that most intimate contact between two individuals, the warmth only lovers could give each other.

That was what should be in a home, not functionality, not psychic shielding but emotional support, physical warmth…

Love.

/Don't go there./ He chided himself. /Not tonight./

They would have panicked, of course, instigated emergency procedures for fear he would go off and level whole city blocks in his temper tantrum. None of them would understand what it was that had set him off. They would think they understood, but how could they? Only a select few individuals in the entire ESUN would be able to know, as he knew, what it was to be insulted to the very core, as his partner had insulted him.

The French Press resisted him and he kept up steady pressure, using the control required to reduce his aggravation. He had too much respect and liking for the coffee he had brewed to throw the Press across the kitchen. It would be a useless action, a waste of good coffee and he would have to order a new French Press. He would also have to buy coffee until he had a decent press once more. No, throwing the press would not be his best option, though it might be satisfying… for all of thirty seconds. Sipping decently brewed coffee lasted far longer than that flash in the pan cure for a bad temper ever could.

Instead of being wasteful he would enjoy the perfectly brewed White Russian blend, giving himself time to calm his temper and allow the smooth taste of the blend to give rise to appreciation and pleasure. That was what he needed now, pleasant sensations, relaxing moments in time. He had done it before, used pleasant sensations to bring himself down from a fit of temper, though never one as fiery as this, he admitted. He only hoped Wu Fei and the Agency would give him the time to work his irritation out of his system before they descended on him.

Pouring the coffee into a mug he leaned his elbows on the counter and with shaking hands lifted the mug to savour the flavour. He held the coffee in his mouth, giving the flavour time to permeate his tastebuds, using every nuance of the sensation to fill his awareness. Pleasure, pleasing sensations, project and savour, swamp his perceptions in the purity of the flavour, nothing else in the world was as important as that rich, yet mellow taste.

Once he caught the full flavour and projected it into its psychic equivalent he swamped himself in it. Temper could not stand against pleasure and for a man who could find no sexual pleasure in any partner he had found for years, taste and smell had become his release. He submerged himself in the awareness of how the coffee felt, how it pleased him, how it warmed him and he felt the ties of anger break.

It was close to a physical pain to finally let the rage go. It was exhausting and he stumbled, cup in hand to the couch and sighed softly. He had not lost his temper like that before and it was a warning. Matters could not continue to stand as they had been. He needed to effect change in his life.

How dare the weaselly little bastard he called his partner suggest he wanted to meet with the young man simply because he was on the scrounge for a possible lay?

How dare the egotistical little prat suggest he was behaving in an unprofessional manner?

How dare that…

/No./

No, he would not permit the anger to resurface. A second sip of the coffee, permit it to swirl in his awareness, surge strong and linger after he had swallowed. A well brewed coffee should linger on the taste for hours after the cup was finished. Burned coffee was not a pleasure to recall so long after a cup, but well brewed coffee, ah, that was different.

Pure pleasure.

Calm, he need no longer be aggravated. Now it was time for quiet reflection, a savouring of the senses, to indulge in pure pleasure. He was not in the mood for Opera, nor for anything modern. Vivaldi, perhaps?

Blue eyes snapped to the door at the chime and he snarled. Blinking in surprise at his own reaction he blushed, running a hand through his hair and shaking his head. He had tripped the privacy lock on entering the apartment, he distinctly recalled punching in the code. A very obvious Do Not Disturb sign would be glowing on his lock plate and if they valued their hide they had best respect his wish, whoever it was.

/Chang probably. Egotistical little git probably thinks he can apologize and that will be the end of it./

A second push on the door bell resulted in a soft curse and after a moment's consideration, he reached for the monitor to check who his midnight caller was. The snarl had startled him, but the growl that escaped him at the identity of his visitor told him exactly how far he still had to go to calm himself to a state approaching normalcy.

If there was one person more that Chang Wu Fei he did not wish to see just now, it had to be Anne Une herself. That it was the Commander of Operations at his door and not his partner was surprising enough, but how could she think he would want to see her beyond office hours? Their relationship had only ever been strained and he could not see it changing in the immediate future.

A third press to the bell and this time he was pleased he did not react. His main requirement now was some time to sort out his aggravations, regaining control in the process and then he would resume his duties. If he was fortunate, by morning the urge to slap down the obnoxious little toad he had to work with would have faded and he could be objective. It only needed a few more hours. By morning he would be his normal self and undoubtedly know why he had reacted so strongly to Chang's insinuations.

/Chang would not have made any comment had Merquise been female. Even had I been heterosexual and Merquise female he would have made no remark on my speaking to him… her. He claims not to be homophobic, but he has issues he needs to deal with./

The door intercom buzzed and he ground his teeth in growing frustration. Did the woman never know when to give up?

"Treize."

Well, that was unusual, she was actually calling him by his name, not Prime or Mr. Kushrenada or Your Grace as was usual on those few occasions they met outside of work hours.

"Please. I think we need to talk."

Of course they needed to talk, but that could wait until tomorrow… or later today, as it was after midnight. He scowled at the windows, the privacy screen was in place so he could not be seen, but he could see out. Not that there was a great deal to see. Very little of the sky was visible and he felt the need to see open sky at the moment. He felt hemmed in, trapped.

/A captive, but when have I been anything other than a captive? A prisoner to the traditions of the past which I escaped, in a fashion. I am Duke but I am, at least, not saddled with a marriage I did not want. Thank you, Gabriella, for that at least./

This was, despite his earlier protestations, home. His loft apartment at least felt the closest to home, the place in which he was most comfortable. There were no disagreeable memories associated with the appartment, as there was with so many of the Kushrenada ancestral holdings, he had not even considered going to the Kushrenada town house across the city. It was used by all of the family when they were in town and he had certainly not felt up to adding family aggravation to his load.

/Perish the thought. Great Uncle Algernon might have been there. I would probably have blown his head off his shoulders, disagreeable old bastard that he is./

He had parked his car near a city park soon after leaving the University and walked, knowing the Agency would be tracking the vehicle. They would have used the city security system to track him, but he did not care, all he had wanted to do was walk off the anger at being accused of an abuse of his position. It was not even that, he knew in some rational part of his consciousness beginning to make itself known. It was not just his partner's unthinking comments, but his empathic response to Chang's aggravation and the accumulated frustrations of months of work with little relief.

Something had had to blow sometime and he was of the opinion repairing some of the damage to his shields, on a subconscious level, had given him the nudge to let his temper loose. He had had enough control not to level city blocks, or incite riots amid peaceful citizens minding their own business. He had walked for hours before hiring a taxi and returning to his apartment. Of course the downside of that action was that the Agency watchdogs had no difficulty finding him.

They would have had the apartment watched to know when to hound him upon his return. The message light on his vid unit was blinking away madly and he had no intention of answering any of the messages contained on it. Let them sanction him if he missed a business related call, he did not care.

Again the intercom buzzed and he rested his head back against the back rest and groaned. "Go away, you stupid woman. Leave me alone."

"I know you are in there and I know what happened. We need to talk about it."

/Not now and if I have my way, not ever. What makes you think I will discuss my personal life with you? You are just another memory relating to my very disagreeable sex life I'd sooner forget./

Buzz. "Treize, I have the pass key and I will use it. Stop behaving like a spoiled child."

He eyed the door with narrowed eyes. /Spoiled child, is it? Well, like too many spoiled children this one bites. I know exactly how such a conversation would play out. I let you in to the apartment, we argue about my deplorable temper and overreaction to some trifling comment I am not adult enough to deal with and my strained shields shatter. Wonderful scenario. I'd take out you and half the building before I passed out. No, thank you, I believe I will remain a spoiled aristocratic bastard, too jumped up with his own ego to consider the needs of the common people. At least then the general population will be safe from a Prime going not so quietly insane./

God, she was younger than he was. How did she get to be Operations Commander and he work under her? Fate had a bitch of a sense of humour.

There was no repeat buzz of the intercom and, thankfully, no buzz of the lock disengaging to the master key. At least she had had sense enough not to use the key. He was finally alone to deal with himself and call himself so many dozen names for being such a touchy bastard. He should have shrugged off Chang's comments and gotten on with the job. He should have, but he had not.

/Sue me, I'm proven to be human after all./

He had used the walk to study his every action during the day, from every imaginable angle, to determine if he had let his hormones rule him. That he had not found any evidence of such a breach of etiquette and protocol did not particularly please him. He was not others who watched and assessed and placed their own interpretations on his every word and deed.

He was a Prime.

He was a Prime talent and he had obligations to others with the same abilities.

All Prime's, not just he himself, was naturally curious about other prime talents, particularly prospective prime's and young Merquise had all of the potential. It had seemed so natural when he had recognized that wealth of pale hair, more white than gold, so delightfully laced with silver as to make it unmistakable. It had been natural for him to ask for a meeting to assess the younger man.

Any of the other Prime talents would have done the same. Because he chanced to be homosexual he was assessed on a different set of rules whenever it came to interaction with the male sex. So unfair, but he knew it happened and not just to him.

He had kept their meeting on a purely professional footing, expressing his interest and curiosity openly and honestly. In front of witnesses, as was most appropriate. Of course it had been pleasant, that contact and he had let the younger man know of his pleasure. There could be no falsehoods, mind to mind, between Prime talents and he knew Merquise had been equally pleased with the contact. High level telepaths could not lie to each other and the empathy they shared in common further cemented the need to recognize honesty; the truth of the touch of mind to mind.

Those who could not know the wonder of such a touch could never understand it's many fold levels.

He had shared his observations of the young man with the other Primes and he had hidden nothing from them. None of them had rebuked him, or called him to task for unprofessional conduct.

No, he had not breached his professional standards when he had spoken to the budding young Prime.

He was, he admitted, developing a certain positive regard for the young man, but that had had nothing to do with why he had initiated the meeting. Had he, Treize knew, been born female, no one would have thought anything about him appreciating such a healthy and handsome specimen of the male sex. He had known from the moment he had seen the dossier on Merquise that the Primes would want to know more of him, to test his potential and evaluate how he would fit into their select group. They had all, in that meeting of minds, expressed an interest in meeting Merquise after reading his first impressions of the young man.

Not one of the Primes had been happy about the circumstances surrounding Merquise's immediate future. The uncertainty of his benefactor's intentions toward his future employment and the sealing of a fair contracted term concerned them. Each in their silent touches to his mind had conveyed to him their determination to take a hand in the matter, and they had urged him to keep an eye on Merquise's test results.

Who ever was footing the bills for Merquise's education to Prime level would find they were now under scrutiny by a group of individuals it would be virtually impossible to hide shady dealings from. The orphan and street kid was far from alone and he suspected Quatre Winner was aware of the potential for abuse of his friend.

He had certainly felt the appreciation of the female members of the Prime circle at the visual impression of the young man. No one would accuse them of sexual harassment, of salving base needs on an innocent.

/Do not start that again, finish your coffee, have a shower and go to bed. Things will not look so dark and dismal in the morning./

He rolled his eyes at the door chime, resting his forehead in one hand. Could they not leave him alone?

"I don't believe this."

The buzz of the intercom drew a sigh from him and he seriously considered opening the door simply to send a psychic blast at the individual to express his displeasure at the interruptions.

"Mr Kushrenada? Might I have a few moments of your time?"

Treize stilled. At some deep level within him the protest shrivelled up and died and he admitted he looked defeat in the eye. The feminine voice was well known to him and at this time she was the one person, other than Gabriella, who actually held sway over him. He could and would ignore Une, but he could not refuse the Medical Officer in charge of his personal welfare.

Sally Po had refused to take the name Chang when she had pair bonded with Wu Fei, but she was proud of their shared Chinese heritage. Proud, but fiercely independent and she refused to be considered an extension of her more traditionalist husband. She was a medical officer for the Agency, trained specifically to attend to the needs of the psionic members of the company. She was his listed physician of record.

With a resigned sigh Treize reached forward to operate the door controls and slumped back in his seat. As the door slid open he set aside his cup and, without looking at his visitor, broke his own ingrained rules of propriety.

He did not rise from his seat in the presence of a woman, he did not greet her by name and he did not show her to a seat. His family would have disowned him for his blatant lack of manners. It was a rather pathetic protest to his situation.

"I trust it is only you?"

"Yes."

The door swished closed and he did not bother to look. He could tell from her voice and the hesitation in her step as she moved across the room, she was assessing his lack of manners as a very bad sign.

"My apologies for subjecting you to Anne. It was her thought you might feel like taking out your temper by blasting her verbally for what happened in the past."

He snorted a short, hard sound that held little in the way of actual amusement.

"I told her she was wrong, that you did not actually blame her for the past. She can be a pig-headed woman once she sets her mind on something."

Well, that he could not argue with. He had said it himself too often to deny it. She was standing behind him now, he could feel her eyes assessing him, but he refused to move. She would be wondering if he had physically injured himself, or if it was purely psychic damage she would need to treat. Physical damage was easy to repair, psychic damage was something else again.

"She said she had to try clearing the air somehow, that the tension between you could no longer be neglected. I think, myself, that her timing needs work."

"Quite. Do sit down."

Damn, he had promised himself he would not be polite, that he needed to make some form of protest against this intrusion. He needed some time to himself and always there were interruptions. Always.

It appeared she had been waiting for the invitation and moved smartly around the couch, keeping just beyond reach unless he made an effort to stretch. He was not particularly inclined to touch, however and watched her in silence, mourning his coffee which was cooling and would not be as enjoyable once cold.

To his surprise Sally presented herself before him, dropped her case on the coffee table and bowed low from the waist, head lowered. It was a humbling posture and took him completely by surprise.

"I apologize for that prig of a traditionalist I married, who never knows when to keep his big mouth shut."

The very formal stance, with the not so formal commentary, widened his eyes. Nor did she straighten up immediately but held the posture until he moved uncomfortably. Only then did she stand straight and tall and meet his eye squarely.

"So, consider my apology given and let me get on with what I came for."

She was an attractive woman, blonde with piercing blue eyes that missed nothing. There was a hint of her oriental ancestry about the shape of her face and her eyes, though many failed to see it. She was as soothing to have around as Chang was aggravating on occasion and he wondered how fiery their domestic disputes would be. In so many ways they were like oil and water and he did not doubt they loved as fiercely as they fought.

"How wide spread is the rumour the Agency Prime went off in a snit?"

Sally arched a blonde eyebrow and smiled, relaxing visibly with his milder tone. Settling on the couch beside him she opened her bag.

"It would be more accurate to ask how many in the Agency know Chang Wu Fei is in trouble for permitting his mouth free reign-again-with no guidance from his brain."

Treize snorted softly, uncaring that he would normally be careful to remain impassive, the epitome of aristocratic snobbery, as Chang was want to call it. It was, in actual fact, a defence mechanism he used to keep people at arm's length, an added protection for his heightened senses. Few people encroached into his personal space when they thought he was being a stuck up, obnoxious bore.

"No one knows exactly what is going on. It was remarked on by a few that you had not returned to the HQ today, but that is not so unusual when you are working a case. Wu Fei had the rare flash of good sense to call me and inform me what he had insinuated. I wish he had not been from such a traditional clan. He still gets hung up on the older than old-fashioned values he was taught before he was placed in care. I am working on that. By the time I am finished with him he might even be considered human. Hand."

With a small sigh Treize offered his left wrist and her slender fingers closed over the pulse point. He could feel the soothing emanations his empathy equated to a vibration. It was a product of her psychic talent, a Healer's talent. While she did not have the rarer than rare Prime Healer's gift to actually heal physical wounds in minutes, she had a unique gift of mind to influence her patient's state of ease. She could trigger the bodies natural will to be healthy and, in some cases, cure more insidious diseases that even Prime Healers could not affect. There were many forms of healing and it was a tested fact patients who were under her care fared better than most.

"So, did you contact the other Primes about Merquise and what you were accused of by that prig I married?"

He very much doubted Wu Fei would have an easy home life for a day or two, she could be volatile and it was usually an unguarded comment from Chang that brought out that fighting spirit.

"Prior to my conversation with your life partner I had contacted the other Primes concerning Mr. Merquise. They expressed their interest in there being another Prime."

Looking up from her watch she arched an eyebrow, considering him for a moment before relaxing her wrist. "Are you certain he will make Prime? As I understand it, he has not completed his training."

"I shared with my fellow Primes what I sensed from him, his temperament and his abilities. They are in agreement with my assessment. He will make full Prime function."

"I see. Did you tell them about the accusation made by Wu Fei?"

He did wish she would simply drop the subject. He had had enough and there seemed to be no escaping his confrontation with Chang Wu Fei.

"No. No, I did not contact them. What happened is a matter between Chang and I, no one else need be concerned."

"I thought so. Damn it all, Chang can thank his scrawny butt you are a gentleman, Treize Kushrenada. I warn you though. Une has received messages from all eight of the Primes wanting to know what upset you enough for them to sense it through your shields. I think she intends to place him on report, regardless of whether you make a complaint or not."

It was not good the other Prime talents had sensed his temper. He had hoped his shields would have been sufficient to hide his deplorable temper tantrum from busy people who did not need distractions.

"No. Tell her to butt out of the matter; it is of no concern to anyone other than Chang and I. He will learn to come to terms with my sexuality, or he will learn to keep his mouth shut."

"Oh, let her. Please. Sometimes he's so insufferable, but for some reason the people he insults are so bloody tolerant they never permit disciplinary action to be taken against him. He will not learn if he is not slapped across the knuckles for his transgressions. If Une does discipline him and you manage to stay mad at him for a few days, he might get the message he can't run off at the mouth and not expect repercussions. I love him, Treize, but I'm only too aware of his faults. He can be a bastard of a prude."

He did like Sally Po. She was plain speaking and had always seemed to understand him, not an easy feat when even his own family could not make the claim. He could understand her reasoning behind wanting her husband to be sanctioned in some manner, but she had obviously forgotten a forthcoming serious event in her own life.

"If you want that child, Sally, you can not afford for Wu Fei to be disciplined." He reminded her gently.

Sally blushed, ducking her head and for a moment looking like a blushing schoolgirl. "The okay came through late this morning. We were both cleared, but it is conditional."

"Oh? What are the conditions?"

"Given the natures of our individual psi talents, it is felt the baby should be gene scanned for psionic potential. They are worried about the diversity of the psi potential that could be inherited from Fei and I. Neither of us are exactly low talents in our respective fields and should too much potential be inherited, it could destabilize the psyche of the child in later life. We need to determine within set parameters the talent to be inherited. We have come close to a Super Psi in the recent past and the authorities are well aware of the destructive potential involved. An out of control psychic is a threat to themselves and everyone around them. An out of control Super Psi is a disaster waiting to happen."

Treize frowned, struck suddenly by what she was saying. Super psi's. An individual with psionic potential that was greater than the human mind could contain. Anything could destabilize the mental facilities of the psi and all sense of right and wrong might be affected. There was the potential the individual might become enraptured with the desire and the ability, to gain what ever was desired. Potential would run away, no sense of morals would be in control and the broad range of talents possessed by a Super Psi would burgeon, escaping control, driving the desire to have more and more.

Desire. Runaway potential. Telepathy, kinetic energy, empathy, clairvoyance…

"That's what we are dealing with." He whispered. "God. That is what we are dealing with."

"Pardon?" Sally looked up from rummaging around in her medical kit.

"The case… That is what we are dealing with."

A blood pressure kit in one hand she studied him for a moment, seeing some serious thinking going on behind those intense blue eyes. "Treize?"

"Congratulations on being informed you can have a child, Sally. You will make an excellent mother. When you see Une would you be so kind as to inform her we are, in all probability, dealing with an emergent Super Psi. I believe our subject is in the process of becoming unstable, with the advent of his potential growing exponentially. He is probably unguided and most likely not a student at Tsuberov, or any other psychic institute. I think our stalker is becoming very dangerous."

Sally sat back from him, considering his hypothesis. "If that assessment is correct… Are you sure?"

"No. No, I am not, but given what I have thus far scanned of the individual, it fits the scenario. It would explain the massive telekinetic potential required to wreck such havoc on the suite and why the sound was blanketed, the students sleeping through the disturbance, their awareness of sound suppressed. That suppression was most likely unconscious on the part of the perpetrator. The intensity of the emotions I monitored in the suite is indicative of someone being on the edge of losing control. I definitely sensed only the one person in the suite. Not even your Chang could make such a mess and he could not have done so silently."

"We will have to be very careful in dealing with this person. Anything, the smallest thing, could set them over the edge; and they could not be contained short of drugging them into a vegetative state."

"Did the autopsy results come back on John Doe?"

That she paled and winced told him it would be bad. Sally was not a shy and retiring violet, she had no fear of blood and faced things head on.

"With the exception of his skull and his feet every bone in the man's body was… pulverised. It would take a massive amount of kinetic potential to do that."

Which only added credibility to his theory, he reflected. "Was he dead before his bones were smashed?"

Sally looked at him, her blue eyes serious. "The bones were reduced to powder, Treize, not just smashed, but powdered. As for the cause of death, the pathologist said his heart was stopped. Squeezed, massive bruising occurred to the heart muscle itself. Death would have been instantaneous and extremely painful."

"Kinetic energy, out of control. Overused, no control, or very little control involved."

"Yes, that is the assessment." Sally motioned for his arm, and he sighed, extending his arm once again. "It does not really gel with the precision required to pulverise bones into powder. There were areas of massive bruising to the muscle in some areas, but overall the pulverization was relatively neat. How well does that match the supposition the subject is out of control mentally? The report suggests it was coldly done, methodical, nothing hysterical at all."

"Perhaps our killer worked out his hysterics after squeezing his victim's heart. It might have been a reflex action if the killer was startled."

He resisted reacting to the tightness of the strap around his upper arm and it was released quickly enough, Sally folding up the unit and placing it away in her bag. Neither spoke as the doctor peered into his eyes for a long moment and then returned to her bag, producing two small blue pills from a bottle and held them out to him.

"Take these and you will get a good night's rest."

Resigned to the inevitable, but admitting if only to himself he could do with a decent night's sleep, he took the pills and swallowed them with a mouthful of lukewarm coffee. "How long?"

"Before you sleep? Oh, at least a half hour, maybe a little longer. They are only mild relaxants designed to move you into a relaxed state to prepare you to sleep. I will have a talk to Une tonight, before I go home, about your concerns. She has called a meeting for tomorrow afternoon at one o'clock. You should be right as reign by then, positively bright-eyed and bushy tailed."

"If his potential continues to grow and he gets frustrated…" he sighed. "It might not be pretty and there is the possibility any showdown incorrectly handled might involve bystanders. The object of his infatuation might be at greatest risk."

"Winner is under guard."

Treize paused, glancing at Sally and recalling he had not had the opportunity to inform Chang of his conversation with Trowa.

"That is another thing. Why are they so certain it is Quatre Winner who is the target?"

It was Sally's turn to be startled, pausing as she sorted the contents of her bag. "Pardon?"

"When I was given this assignment, I was informed Quatre Winner was in danger. Specifically the Winner heir was targeted. I need to know exactly why they presume it is Winner who is the target. Agency investigators did not carry out the initial investigation and there was nothing in the reports I have read that, on reflection, convince me he was the intended target of either of the two intruders in the suite. Did Fei inform Une about the need for a high talent Medium on this one?"

"Not that I have heard, but I was called in only a short time ago to check on you. I've not been briefed specifically on the case. Your blood pressure is a little high, but given what happened that is to be expected. I will want you in for neural scans tomorrow, after the meeting will do. Fei tells me your shields are distressed, that you require a time out to effect repairs and re-establish your equilibrium."

"Yes."

"Then we had best run a few other tests as well. Others can continue the investigation until I am finished with you." At his sombre stare she smiled, shaking her head a little. "I won't take you off the case unless I deem you to be a danger to yourself and others on the team, not to mention innocent bystanders, but I do insist I run the tests immediately. We will not be putting them off until after the case is resolved."

"I need time to rebuild my shields and I need to spend some time with my daughter. She is growing up and I am missing too much of her life. Primarily I need time away from what has become my life. Work I used to enjoy performing is now becoming nothing more than a chore and I do not perform well in these conditions."

"You should have come to me before it got this bad. I would have pegged back Anne's ears for pushing too hard."

He refrained from commenting and watched as she packed up her bag, tucking her equipment neatly into its proper places. He sensed a moment of hesitation from her and was instantly on his guard. This woman usually did not hesitate and he was wary of what would cause her to think twice before speaking.

"I understand from Fei that he's gorgeous."

He glared, daring her to condemn him, tired and angry about people sticking their unwanted observations in his life.

"Coming from Fei that says a lot, Treize. I wish you luck if it turns out he is of the same persuasion." At his pointed stare she held up her hands, grinning in an unrepentant fashion. "I know, I'll keep my comments professional, but Treize, the case is not going to last forever and you have said he will make a Prime's ranking. It just might be that he would suit you as more than merely a working partner." Gently she patted his wrist before snapping the bag closed. "Don't allow stuck up prigs like Fei to get under your skin. I'll kick his toosh for you tonight."

"Make him do without sex for a month or so." A low mutter. "I would find that fitting punishment."

There was nothing wrong with Sally's hearing and she laughed, delighted as she neared the door. "I will show myself out, you go have a shower and relax. I just might do that, you know, especially if you don't file a formal complaint. It is on the official record that the Primes in your field have called with their various concerns for you. Though some days it may feel you are alone, you are not. Go and have a shower and I'll see you tomorrow."

t.b.c

Karina Robertson 2008


	17. Chapter 17

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 17/

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 17/??

Author: Karina

/…/ Thoughts

/.../ Telepathy

… Empathic Impression translated from emotion into symbolic words.

_Italics_ Flashback / Memory

Chapter 17

Duo considered his surroundings with a little less pleasure than he had experienced only a few seconds before. The three-bedroom suite he and his friends had been assigned had more than met with his approval, right up to the point Quatre had announced their dining arrangements for the evening.

/No, no. It can't turn sour now. Things were going so well./

When informed they were counted amidst the students allocated accommodations off campus Duo had been delighted. The prospect of escaping the rigid security of the University compound fired his fertile imagination with possibilities. He had immediately begun to plan how best to slip away unnoticed to enjoy the city's nightlife.

The hotel was a five star establishment not far from the University complex. Given Tsuberov's clientele he had known there would be adequate security to keep undesirables away from their guests. He had hoped to escape the tight security reining him in at the campus and enjoy a more relaxed security protocol designed to keep people out, not in. The prospects of taking advantage of that distinction seemed to be taking a downward incline if, within the first half an hour after their arrival, his room mate was informing him of formal dining requirements.

"We have to eat in the hotel dining room?" Duo blinked and stared at Quarte, hopeful he had heard wrong or simply misunderstood.

Quatre merely inclined his head in a positive tilt. "Yes."

"With the hobnobs?"

Fine lips twitched, a smile being withheld at Duo's almost injured tone. "With the hobnobs."

Duo eyed his friend for a long moment, hoping to see a teasing glint in aqua blue eyes, which would assure him Quatre was joking. He decided the evidence for Quatre teasing him was decidedly lacking and he could see his night on the town vanishing like mist in a breeze. Being confined to the hotel, luxurious as it was, was not his favoured option.

"Ah, Kitty Kat, say it ain't so."

The Winner heir sighed. He had known there would be protests and not just from Duo; he was expecting a bigger objection from Zechs when he emerged from his bedroom. Quatre was wary of just how bad a reaction he could expect as Zechs had seemed decidedly out of sorts during the afternoon. He had seemed preoccupied at the Assembly and by the time they had arrived at the hotel 'preoccupied' had graduated to a more worrying 'somewhat surly'.

For an empath strong emotion could become a drug and Quatre was well aware of the risks, but he could not help himself. He was attracted to strong emotion, driven almost, to savour it, study it and know every facet of it. Zechs was one to brood, he was never quick to lose his temper, but when he did it was fiery, spectacular and fizzled quickly back into brooding silence. If one was unfortunate enough to be the focus of his ire, be one psychic or not, one would undoubtedly be singed by the explosion of emotion he was capable of generating. Quatre had never been that focus and was fascinated with trying to determine the exact point when brooding would ignite into passionate fire.

Given his room mate's frame of mind during the latter part of the afternoon, Quatre was almost afraid of informing him they were expected to attend a formal dinner. He might end up a little closer to that brooding and fiery spark than he was comfortable with. Duo at least was generally more reasonable and easier to read than Zechs.

"Is there something wrong with eating in a restaurant, Duo? The food at the University is good, it has to be given what we are required to do, but there is something about a decent restaurant that makes food taste better. Tsuberov's cafeteria just does not have the ambiance of this place."

The braided youth simply looked at his friend and tried to keep his jaw from dropping in disbelief. Some days Quatre was invariably the little rich boy, spoiled and eager for more pampering, the antithesis of Duo's driving need for independence and careless attitude to grunge. The idea of slipping security and heading out for a night on the town had obviously not entered his very proper blonde head.

"I can think of better things to do than eat in a hoity-toity restaurant, Kat. Have you mentioned this to Zechs? In case you hadn't noticed, he's a bit tetchy for some reason and I think he's not going to love the idea of company."

It was as well Zechs rarely lost his temper, Quatre mused, given the rules that governed high talent empathic and telepathic psychics. Prime talents in these fields had to be so careful to maintain control at all times. Zechs's fits of pique were usually mild and directed against the worst of the instructors and students who constantly reminded him of his circumstances. Temperamental outbursts, snappy comments and weighted sarcasm were common and infinitely survivable, and extremely entertaining for any onlookers. Given Zechs had been drilled since arriving at Tsuberov in the necessity to maintain control at all times, Quatre was certain there was no need to be concerned. It was, after all, just dinner. Nothing to be worried about even if he was a little moody.

"_Prime talents, regardless of the field of expertise, must always be in control. The safety of lesser and non talents is never to be forgotten and is the primary concern that must be addressed."_

Being a confirmed Prime level empath himself Quatre knew the rigours of such training and had lived through the lectures since he was a child. Zechs had not only his empathic talent, but also his telepathic talent to consider and was, if anything, more aware than Quatre of the dangers. Normally Zechs was fairly even-tempered and really it was the endless etiquette and dancing lessons that annoyed him. What he had sensed from Zechs in the latter part of the day felt unlike those past instances of annoyance and Quatre was willing to err on the side of caution when dealing with his friend. Annoyed psychics needed to be handled with a fair amount of cautious respect.

Something was obviously bothering his friend this evening. It had begun at the University in the latter half of the afternoon, whilst they had been in attendance at the Assembly. His first indication of something being amiss was when Zechs had begun to focus his attention across the hall, but seemed unable to focus on any one particular individual. It was not exactly an uncommon reaction from a high level empath given the amount of people present at the assembly. He had become increasingly distracted and displayed all the signs of a classic Merquise brooding session while they had waited to be escorted to their new accommodations. He had not even appeared to hear the standard lecture given by the Master of the University, reminding those to be accommodated off campus to always remember the prestige and control required of Tsuberov students.

Quatre grinned at Duo, hoping the smile did not come out strained. He had a bad feeling the news would not be greeted well by Zechs, but he was dealing with Duo now, not the taller blonde. He could hope Zechs would take the news better than Duo who, he suspected, had been making plans which did not include remaining at the hotel. He could just imagine the repercussions if Duo took licence with their liberty from campus security. He could ignore the question of how Zechs would react for now and attempt to keep Duo from getting himself expelled.

"Admittedly I can say, with a fair degree of certainty, there will be no pizza on the menu, but there is only one way to find out."

Duo blinked, considered the prospect of sitting in a no doubt glamorous and tastefully decorated, but still very formal, restaurant. They would be surrounded by business tycoons and their associates, politicians and the nobility of old Europe. There was sure to be social butterflies discussing frivolous shopping sprees, or the boyfriend of a friend and certainly the supposedly secret affair of a friend with said friend's wife or husband. Duo cringed.

"Room service?" He suggested hopefully, turning puppy dog eyes on Quatre.

"Restaurant." Quatre insisted, deliberately not meeting those huge soulful eyes.

He had been caught too many times by that look. He was not about to suffer through dinner with Duo's huge violet eyes blazing in his memory. The things he had found himself doing after looking into those eyes did not bear thinking about. He had expected his father to have a few comments about disciplinary action in response to some of those forays, but the elder Winner had been oddly silent on the matter.

He was not sure if he should be relieved, or worried, that the axe had not fallen during his visit to the colonies.

"Turn off the eyes, Maxwell, they won't work. This is not my doing but a directive from the University. We have to go and that is that. Zechs!"

Duo blinked and settled for pouting instead. "You are so ruining my night, you know that?"

"It can't be helped, so be brave." Quatre frowned at the door to the third bedroom which remained stubbornly closed. "Zechs!"

Duo sauntered over to one of the leather arm chairs and sprawled casually, legs hooked over the overstuffed arm. He was decidedly out of sorts, knowing at least for this night he was not going to escape, but there was always tomorrow night. Nor did he need to subside gracefully, he was within his rights to be a pain and he needed to extract some pleasure from the disagreeable notion.

"He's not in a good mood, you know. It might be best for us all to beg off and keep him here, nice and quiet." Duo suggested, ever hopeful. "I don't think he's dealing too well with being away from the superior shielding of the University."

"The hotel has shields to keep the general 'noise of the city' out of its 'public' areas, or it would never have been chosen by Tsuberov." Quatre shot down Duo's suggestion before he could begin to use Zechs and his mood to escape the formality of the evening.

"Their shields are not as good as the ones at the University." Duo muttered, knowing few establishments had the kind of protection Tsuberov employed for the comfort of its students.

"Believe me, the shields are just as good as the Universities." Quatre snapped back and strode to the bedroom door, knocking firmly in a no nonsense fashion. "Zechs, come on. We have reservations for seven thirty."

After a moment the door snapped open, startling Quatre into a step backwards and a pale blonde head appeared around the door frame. Blue eyes raked over first Quatre and then Duo, where he slouched in the armchair, before returning to Quatre.

"Reservations for what?"

"Dinner." Quatre heaved a long suffering sigh. He had an awful feeling it was going to be a long night and it would be he the University Masters would expect to keep his roommates in line. "In the hotel restaurant in half an hour."

"I thought we could order room service." There was no hint of that being a question and the older blonde scowled at Quatre, looking a little flushed.

Duo grinned triumphantly at Quatre. "Room service is good." The glare he received from Quatre rocketed Duo out of the armchair and wiped the smirk off his face. "Ahm. Sure, Kitty Kat. Restaurant is fine."

Zechs turned his scowl on the braided Sweeper, eyeing him from the top of his chestnut head to the tip of his sock clad feet. "What do we want to go down there for?"

/I so do not want to be in the middle of this./ Duo looked at Quatre, who was glaring at him, and knew it would be more than his life was worth to back Zechs.

It was not going to be a good night at all and, whatever happened, somehow Duo knew the finger of blame would invariably point to him. For some reason, even when he was innocent, he ended up looking guilty.

"To be sociable?" Duo offered, hoping to escape from the pair before he was singed.

Quatre smirked, turning his attention to Zechs and knowing he would probably regret this later. Zechs tended to have a long memory when it came to being reminded of his place as a Tsuberov student and it was something Quatre generally tried to avoid. It was, however, one of the few times when Zechs actually needed reminding of what it meant to be educated at Tsuberov.

"We are Tsuberov students and represent our University at any and all times of the day or night. We are here as Tsuberov students and at Tsuberov's expense and as such, we are required by the Board of Governors to comport ourselves in accordance with their instruction. A table has been reserved for all of us at seven thirty to meet for a social dinner. The option to refuse was not presented by the Master."

"All of us?" Zechs inclined his head slightly in question, moving to stand in the doorway proper and tower over Quatre.

"All of us, as in everyone who has been moved into the hotel while the dormitory block is undergoing repairs, and a certain number of guests for the evening. We are to meet in the formal dining room for a shared meal and social conversation will be expected, as will exemplary manners. While none of us particularly have to like it, we do need to maintain our standing as Tsuberov students." Maybe, Quatre dared to think, this might not be so difficult. At least Zechs appeared to be listening to him.

Zechs snorted softly, an action which said clearly enough what he thought of Quatre's commentary. "What are you bothering me for? You know I am never included in those things."

Duo's eyes widened and he took a strategic step back, placing the chair between him and the pair. He just knew what Quatre's reaction to that comment would be and he wanted to be divorced from the proceedings. Being a neutral body was not only a diplomatic position to take, it was also potentially lifesaving.

"Damn it all, Zechs Merquise, will you get it through your thick head you…!" Quatre heaved a deep breath, snapping his mouth closed, but he did not relinquishing the glare. "We are required to attend the evening meal in the formal dining room. At the request of the Master I acknowledged the reservations made for us to attend said meal. You were included in the head count, of that I can assure you and you will not be excused because of a temper tantrum. Get over it. Now if Mr. Merquise would kindly get out of his snit and go and change into something more appropriate for the occasion, I would appreciate not being last to arrive. I have never approved of being 'fashionably late'."

/Wow./ Duo backed another step, eyes widening. /I so don't want to be here if they start flinging compliments at each other backed by psi talent. Damn, what has Zechs so riled he set Quatre off? Maybe I should try to break this up before it goes any further?/

Zechs scowled and his voice was a deep, mellow purr. "Something more appropriate?"

Duo shifted uncomfortably back another step. /Shit no, I'm not that brave./

Crystal blue eyes blazed with growing temper. "I am more likely to tell them exactly what I think of them instead of simpering and pretending to enjoy being used as a floor mat, Winner."

/Winner? Now I know something is wrong and it's not minor, whatever it is. Who said what to get him all pissy?/

Quatre was obviously as aware as Duo something was very wrong with their room mate and was equally as unaware as Duo as to what it could be. Stamping on his temper and the urge to lash back verbally, Quatre instead channelled his empathy toward Zechs, hoping to calm the older man down. A near Prime in this temper was not good and Quatre was wishing they did not have to make an appearance tonight. He would by far have preferred to remain in the suite himself and work on sorting out this temper tantrum.

"There are many things I could be doing this evening I would enjoy a great deal more than attending a formal dinner, however, that is what we are required to do. I don't know what has your blood pressure up, but I would appreciate it if you dealt with it. Slap down some shields before we walk out that door, or you will find yourself back under sedation and a psyche evaluation."

"Ah, the voice of reason speaks." Zechs snapped. "Always the reasonable one, aren't you Winner?"

The leggy blonde was generating menace and even Duo, who was not in the least empathic, could plainly feel the rise in tension coming from him. It would be worse for Quatre who was a level ten empath, though insufficiently trained to acquire the Prime designation.

/Ouch./ Duo watched as Quatre clenched his fists and the intense blue of his eyes seemed to shimmer. /He's trying to influence Zechs? Damn, no, that's just too dangerous. Zechs has way more training and could slap him into the middle of next week if he wanted to./

In the next couple of seconds it became obvious that Quatre's attempt to soothe the older student with his own empathic ability had been sensed and his efforts rebuffed.

"Back off, Winner." Merquise growled, blue eyes flaring with irritation. "I don't need you meddling in my head any more than I need that Oriental git calling me a…"

Zechs snapped his jaw closed, blue eyes darkening in sudden confusion. Quatre sucked in a steadying breath and swallowed with difficulty, aware of the locking up of emotion and the effort being made by Zechs to establish control.

/Crap. I thought he was going to haul off and slap Quatre down. Something is wrong about this whole thing. That sort of display just is not Zechs… and what Oriental git?/

Duo watched, wide eyed as the tall blonde wavered a moment, one hand lifting slightly as though to touch Quatre, not in violence, but in an unspoken appeal. The smaller man reached out cautiously, giving Zechs time to ward him off if he did not want the contact, but he was not rebuffed. Quatre gently locked his fingers in the raised hand and Duo knew he was projecting calming emotions. Soothing emotions Zechs did not try to block.

"So… Can someone tell me what is going on?"

"It's alright, Duo." Quatre murmured, focusing on the link being established between he and the older psi.

Zechs was beginning to open up his shields, using the calm Quatre was generating to sort out his own perceptions. The Winner heir suspected Zechs was more shaken by this turn of events than either he or Duo. They just needed a few minutes to establish control points and, if possible, he needed Zechs to let him in beyond level two access. Zechs had never permitted him any deeper in his psyche than level two and Quatre was almost certain that restricted access was not going to be sufficient on this occasion.

"Zechs is not quite himself at the moment. My guess is he must be channelling strong emotion from someone else. We just need a few minutes to strengthen his barriers. We can be fashionably late this once. We can make a grand entrance and show them all how dashing we are."

Duo arched an eyebrow. Zechs was channelling someone? Tapping into someone who was obviously in an antagonistic frame of mind. Considering the artificial shields installed in the suite and the natural shields Zechs normally maintained against intrusion by the rest of the world, the source of this emotion had to be a high level talent. If the person was not within the precincts of the hotel, then the degree of talent went up exponentially. The source of origin had to be either an empath or a telepath, if not a dual talent and Zechs was going to need to strengthen his shields against the unintentional intrusion.

"Will you let me in?" Quatre murmured, lifting his free hand to rest his fingertips lightly on the taller blonde's cheek.

"It's alright. I… know what is happening now. Just give me a few minutes to strengthen my barriers. I'm… I'm sorry for what I said. I didn't mean to… "

"No need to apologize." Quatre smiled slightly, "You were, literally, not yourself there for a few minutes. We will need to work on your shields and we should report what happened."

He hated to do it to his room mate, but such instances as this could not be ignored. The Training Master in charge of Zechs would need to be notified and the incident investigated, to ensure Zechs could be better protected in the future. It could mean months of additional work, but for his sanity there could be no avoiding the necessity of additional shield training.

His suggestion was not greeted with enthusiasm, but he had known Zechs would not welcome it. What he had not expected was to feel Zechs tighten up against him for an instant, blocking him out before he recovered. The links opened, granting him access and Zechs began drawing from him again, using his generated emotion to establish firmer control of himself. He was once again restricted to level two access and he felt the barrier holding him firmly away from deeper contact.

"I don't think I want to do that. Not at the moment." The husky whisper was barely audible to Quatre standing directly in front of him.

"We can't take chances, Zechs and you know it. Any breach of your shields is simply not on. It's dangerous to you and to others. We don't know who you were reacting to and…"

"No!" An instant of panic flashed through the shared link before it was quashed. "No, I… I know what… I know who I was reacting to and it was… it's my fault. I really don't want to let anyone else know." The blonde head dipped lower, long hair and artfully ragged bangs hiding his face from sight.

Somehow Quatre had known Zechs would claim responsibility for this. He seemed to have accepted that no matter what happened around him, he would be found to be in the wrong.

"How is it your fault? If you don't want me to call for a technician and have you secluded in a shielded room until they find out who is broadcasting and shut them down, then you have to be honest with me."

Zechs looked up quickly and Duo arched an expressive eyebrow at the older man's blush, the colour flooding into his face before he ducked his head, hiding again, though he made no move to escape Quatre's touch. It was hardly the reaction Duo had been expecting and from Quatre's obvious surprise he had not expected it either. Curious aqua blue met intrigued blue-violet and they turned to the rangy blonde with matched speculation.

"Zechs?" Quatre was aware he was treading on ground fraught with danger by pushing the point, but he felt he needed to.

Zechs was no shy and retiring wallflower, though his preference was to keep a low profile. Quatre was only too aware the majority of the student body saw only a limited aspect of the young man. There was more than a streetwise rebel hidden away beneath the persona he presented to the world. Few people ever saw the curiously innocent persona now peeking through. Quatre had only glimpsed this aspect of Zechs twice in the years they had known each other.

"Please. It was my fault and I've repaired and restored my shields. This has nothing to do with… I really would prefer to keep him out of it. They would need to notify him and I… don't…" The husky voice trailed into silence.

/Him?/ Duo fought the urge to grin. This was not the time to be amused, not in the face of worried innocence. The streetwise rebel would have laughed with him, but the innocent Zechs Merquise persona would be mortified and run. /You didn't pick up on what he just said, did you, Quatre? Not like you to miss something that obvious./

Quatre frowned. "I don't think it would be wise…"

"Ah, Kitty Kat." Duo was watching Zechs with bright eyes and he kept his grin down to a shadow, a ghost of what he really wanted to project. Manic glee was uncalled for in this situation. "I think we should leave it for now. Just help Zechsy get his shields sorted out and we'll go down to dinner."

Quatre turned to Duo, looking torn between assisting one friend and explaining to the other the importance of the problem. Duo was not an empath, let alone a powerful one and so could not understand the complexities needing to be dealt with before Zechs would be considered 'safe'.

"Duo, you don't understand, this could be dangerous and not just for Zechs. The technicians and his Training Master really need to know about the breach of his shields."

"Ah, no, I don't think so." Duo moved around the chair and reached to lightly touch Quatre's shoulder, allowing him to read through the touch Duo's certainty they needed to leave Zechs alone.

At least for now. He could have his fun later, after they had all calmed down and Zechs had a chance to recover from his embarrassment.

"What we need to do is change into something more appropriate and go to dinner. Trust me on this, Kitty Kat. It won't be a problem once Zechs sorts his shields out. Now please, tell me we are to be spared the necessity of wearing the Tsuberov uniform?"

Maintaining his hold on Zechs Quatre stared at Duo, aware of the flow of emotion he was reading from the Sweeper. Duo seemed to know something he did not and what he read from Zechs was a level of embarrassment he had never encountered from the older man before. Zechs felt very strongly about something and Duo seemed to be way ahead of Quatre in figuring out exactly what the cause of the scene was. Quatre was not too sure he liked being in the dark on something Duo had figured out so easily.

He could feel Zechs shuttering away his emotions, erecting screens around his mind, locking away his thoughts, thoughts which Quatre had never been able to read as well as he could read emotions. Zechs still would not look up and meet his eyes and he sensed a heartfelt desire to avoid further questions and to be believed. To be trusted to know his limits and his ability to recognize his own mistakes and deal with them. Glancing at Duo he caught the small nod, the flicker of blue-violet toward the taller blonde and the mouthed words, 'Leave it for now.'

Quatre sighed. "We are not required to wear the school colours. We are requested to present ourselves in a neat and tidy fashion, acceptable to the standards of the establishment we are to frequent this evening."

/At least it was not the straight jacket./ Duo mused, relieved Quatre seemed to have capitulated.

Tsuberov had a formal uniform the Board of Governors required be worn for formal dinners at Tsuberov. The uniform was, in his opinion, downright ugly and an abuse to every fashion rule ever devised over a period of three hundred years. Not a single male student at the University with an ounce of good taste wished to be seen dead in it. Even the colour was horrendous in Duo's opinion. Out of the entire male population there were less than a handful of students who could manage to look good in it. That Zechs was one of those few, and loathed it so much, amused Duo to no end.

"Well, that is something at least." Zechs muttered, pulling back from Quatre.

Duo, being Duo and wanting to break the tension, could not resist the opening. "Come on, Zechs, give the ladies a treat and show off those lovely long legs of yours. You know you look good in the uniform."

Blue eyes widened and he shot a scowl at the Sweeper, caught the wink directed at him and snarled in response. "Would Maxwell like to wear his trousers over his head and wander through the foyer without the grace of boxers? It can be arranged, you know. I am certain the sight of your naked butt will give the ladies of high society a thrill." The bedroom door slammed behind him.

Quatre winced and sighed, turning to Duo who was grinning like the Cheshire cat.

"He's not in a good mood is he?" Duo snickered. "Should make for an interesting night."

"I am unimpressed, Duo, both by your baiting him and by his present condition. He needs to report this incident to a technician."

"Nah, Quatre. He needs to be left alone to get Treize Kushrenada out of his system. That is what he needs." Duo returned, his smirk widening.

Quatre did a double take.

"Kushrenada? What has he to do with…" Quatre fell silent and considered Duo for a long moment, absently running a hand over his pressed slacks, blue eyes narrowing the more he thought about Duo's comment.

"Yeah. The Prime Kushrenada. Met him today, didn't he? Close up and personal type, meet and greet. Zechs hasn't been quite right since, has he?"

"You think he's reacting to meeting the Duke? I know Primes are capable of making an impression on a person, but Zechs should be well and truly over that by now."

"You are not thinking, Kitty Kat." Duo waggled a finger at his friend. "At least, not with your hormones, you aren't."

"Hormones? What are you… Oh." Quatre found himself blushing, suddenly aware of exactly what Duo was implying. "You think Zechs… Oh!"

Duo had to suppress the snicker at Quatre's expression. Some days, for an empath, Quatre could be quite slow. "Yeah. I think Zechsy was impressed, on more than one level, with his Primeness the Duke. I'm not an idiot, you know, I am well aware of the kind of impression a Prime talent has on people fortunate enough to meet them. Let's face it, Zechs hasn't reacted to anyone on an intimate personal level before, not since I've known him. I think he's got the hots for that piece of hot stuff and I think he might have inadvertently tapped into something he should not have. Now I'm not saying it was deliberate, maybe he was just doing a little innocent daydreaming. Think about it. Maybe Duke hottie was in a snit and telling off his sidekick."

"Side kick?"

"When Otto introduced them there was an Oriental there, short, dark and glaring thunderclouds at Kushrenada. What the heck were you looking at, hmm? Were you not paying attention to what was going on?"

Quatre blushed. He had been focused on Zechs getting the attention he actually deserved, given his talents and not on who was in attendance, though now he thought on it there had been a short, dark-haired man with Otto and the Duke. He fought off the urge to squirm uncomfortably beneath that piercing, all too astute, gaze. No one made Quatre Winner squirm. Well, no one other than his father.

"Treize Kushrenada would have had to make quite an impression to cause Zechs to act like a lovestruck school boy."

"Seems so." Duo snickered. "Quite an impression, not that I'll be making a comment to Zechsy. I think it best if we baby him a bit tonight. We should keep an eye on him at dinner, just in case he gets a bit snappy and backslides. Will you be able to pick up any trouble from him before it goes far enough to cause a scene and we have our erstwhile chaperones interfering?"

"Yes, I will maintain a focus on him through dinner, just to be on the safe side."

"Pity Zechsy never asked who my spunky bunn's was. I may never see him again and I never even learned his name. Now that is a calamity."

"Duo." The long suffering Winner sighed, wafting a hand in the general direction of Duo's bedroom. "Go and get dressed."

The irrepressible grin was back. "Can I wear my hair down?" He wiggled his eyebrows and posed. "Bet you I have all the ladies green with envy they don't have my chestnut mane."

"Only if you want to end up eating it." Quatre muttered and turned toward his own room. He thought his bed would be far preferable to facing the prospect of a long, boring meal, while waiting to nip trouble in the bud.

Duo paused in the doorway to his room and glanced back over his shoulder. "I still don't understand why we have to go to dinner. It would be way less of a hassle to have it sent up."

"We are not the only Tsuberov students now in residence and I was under the impression we will not have to sit a formal dinner in the restaurant every evening. We would stand out like sore thumbs if we failed to turn up tonight and given our past record I think it would be best to make an appearance."

Duo frowned thoughtfully at Quatre. "You did ring and make certain Zechs is on the guest list, didn't you?"

"I did and you will be thrilled to know we have a very select guest list for this dinner. I was quite impressed when I learned the highest profile students from Tsuberov will be in attendance, as well as the Dean. He and the Master Instructor seem to be intent on making the evening something of a social occasion."

"Ah, please, say it ain't so. Not the snobbiest bunch of pansies at the Uni?"

Quatre rubbed at his temples. "Ain't ain't grammar and you ain't gonna use it, are you?" Quatre glared at his companion, lips quirked in a smirk.

Duo grinned, he was rather proud of Quatre for resisting threatening him with sanctions and a return to the much hated language classes.

"You have that a little wrong, Quatre. I believe that should be 'Aint ain't gramma and I ain't gonna use it, are I'." He snickered.

"I am so glad there are no witnesses to hear you at the moment. Language, Duo, or do you really want to go into deportment, language and etiquette classes again?"

"Perish the thought, Kat." Duo shuddered, disappointed Quatre had not resisted the urge to remind him. "I've had my fill of stuffed shirt lessons. So why would they want to make such a big song and dance about us staying here? I would have thought they would have wanted us to keep as low a profile as possible, not parade us to the uber rich and famous. With the security at Tsuberov I'm sure some days it's a prison, not a school."

Quatre had to smile and opened the door to his bedroom, pausing to glance from Duo to the closed door of the room in between. "I think the Board of Governors are nervous as hell because Prime Kushrenada was at the University and he noticed Zechs."

Zechs appeared in the doorway, proving he was aware of their conversation. He was shirtless, a small golden locket swinging at his breast and dressed in black dress pants and boots. He looked a little flushed and glared first at Duo and then at Quatre.

"Why would they be nervous?"

Why indeed, Quatre mused. There was something very off about the situation Zechs found himself in and the absence of pre-contractual discussions was only the tip of the iceberg. It was very possible the evening's plans might have been formulated with the express purpose of offering a show of visibility, which included the soon-to-be Prime. The University could hardly be accused of hiding Zechs if he was eating in one of the city's most exclusive restaurants.

Still, it seemed like a great deal of trouble to go through. To Quatre it would make more sense had an announcement been made concerning a pre-contractual discussion for an upcoming Prime's contract term.

"Duke Kushrenada noticed you. He is not a man you forget easily and he is not a man to be underestimated. I will bet you any wager you care to offer, the word has gone around to the other Primes in your field, not only that you are here, but also that you are approaching graduation. I would be very surprised if, within the week, the Dean does not receive preliminary questionnaires on your development to date and the projections expected by your graduation. Prime's are rare in any field, rarest in your field and you will be one of ten strong enough and sane enough to handle the ability."

Zechs shrugged. "So? Some days I doubt my sanity and the sanity of anyone who thinks it's great to achieve Prime status."

The prestige of being a Prime was all well and good, but Quatre, who had grown up with wealth, position and prestige, knew too well the weight of responsibility that went with it. Zechs would not appreciate the rise in profile the Duke's unexpected appearance was bound to cause.

"There is going be a stir when you graduate as a Dual Class Prime, I have tried telling you before. My father was interested after meeting you and Winner Corporation already employs two Telepathic Empaths of Prime class ranking. They are a bonded pair, but he'd be a fool not to be hopeful of managing to snare a third. All it would take for him to jump into the bidding for a contract would be for one, or both, of the Winner Primes to mention you are expected to graduate with full prime status. His lawyers would be working on a contract to present at a pre-contract discussion before you had time to blink."

"Gee, it's so nice to be popular suddenly." Sarcasm fairly dripped from each word.

"Get used to it, Zechs. Prime Kushrenada knows about you, which means all of the Primes will know about you soon, if they don't already. When Primes talk, people listen. I think it fairly safe to say Tsuberov will become the focus of attention during the interim term of contract discussions by any business, or political party, which thinks it can afford your contract."

Zechs snorted softly and tossed a heavy lock of pale hair over his shoulder. "I think you have forgotten my Guardian seems to have my contract firmly under his control."

It was Quatre's turn to snort and he teamed it with a snigger for good measure. "I believe you will find your Guardian will know when to back down and follow proceedings to the letter of the law."

"I prefer the idea of being ignored." Zechs scowled. "Somehow I think it was more peaceful when no one wanted to know about me."

"Well, I hope you enjoyed it while it lasted." Duo grinned at the older man. "I have to agree with Kitty Kat. I'd say those days are over and done with."

Zechs rubbed at his temples, forcing himself not to snap at the young man who seemed to go out of his way to annoy him and not always for a laugh.

"I don't want the attention, Duo. I have a hard enough time performing to Tsuberov's exacting standards, without the weight of the world watching me. All I want to do is graduate with reasonable grades and have a fair chance of enjoying working wherever I am placed."

"You've got as much chance of that happening as a baked fart in a pickle bottle has of being mistaken for lavender perfume. So, Kitty Kat, who do we expect for dinner?"

Quatre was staring at Duo with his lower jaw agape and as the silence lengthened Duo glanced between the two blondes, bewildered by their expressions. Zechs was staring at him as though he had grown two heads and Quatre seemed to be having difficulty in closing his mouth.

"What?"

"A baked fart?" Quatre whispered.

"In a pickle bottle?" Zechs arched a regal white eyebrow.

"Gah, you two are just so…" Duo searched for an adequate description and shrugged. "So who is coming to dinner?"

Quatre grinned, exchanging amused looks with Zechs "The Dean, the Security Chief, the History Master and Science Mistress, the Master Technician from the Laboratories and eleven students, not counting us."

"Great. Just wonderful." Zechs growled.

Duo blinked. "So how many of the dinner guests are actually staying at the hotel?"

"Other than we three? Five students, I believe, plus Mr. Abrams. The remainder of the student count will be arriving with the Dean and the Science Mistress and the Master Tech. Abram's will be assigned as our Supervisor whilst we are resident here and I believe Otto will be resident as well. He will, of course, be in charge of the Security arrangements and liaison with Hotel security. I believe I overheard some of the Masters talking about him escorting us to the uni every day, to ensure we don't skip classes."

"Ah, shit. Otto will be staying here? Damn." Duo had no doubt the Security Chief would be expecting him to try something and be alert for any attempt he might make to escape the hotels precincts. Otto's presence would severely curtail his activities.

Zechs, following the recitation, rolled his eyes and retreated into his room, but through the open door they had no difficulty overhearing his sarcastic rejoinder. "Damn. Where did I put those short pants? I feel like I'm six years old."

Duo abandoned his room in favour of joining Quatre in the door to his bedroom and dropped his voice to a confidential whisper. "How much of that was bullshit?"

"Bullshit?" Quatre queried.

"Yeah. How much of what you said about dinner was designed, by you, specifically to annoy Zechsy?"

Quatre sighed and with a fingertip touch turned Duo back toward his room and gave his friend a small push to get him started.

"None of it. They really are coming to dinner tonight and we really are being escorted to and from the campus daily. Now go and get dressed, we are going to be rather unfashionably late."

Duo stared solemnly at his friend before taking the hint and retreating to his bedroom. "Why do I have this annoying certainty we are not being told the whole story about what is going on?"

Quatre sighed and leaned against the door frame rubbing a hand over his eyes. He was tired and would have preferred to order in pizza and crash in what looked to be a rather nice bed. The tensions of the last half an hour and assisting Zechs to regain his shields' integrity, had left him feeling drained.

"I know what you mean. The Dean was… worse than usual this morning and last night… I had nightmares about him wanting to tuck me in."

"Scary shit."

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/Where are you?/

The pain was much reduced from the piercing all-consuming agony which had driven him into his dark and secure retreat. The thundering tumult of his heart had reduced to the point where he could hear more than the rapid thunder of each beat.

/I will find you./

The throbbing behind his eyes was now a persistent, low-level annoyance which, while it muted his perceptions, did not stop him from being aware of his surroundings.

/They have hidden you from me, but that is alright. They cannot hide you from me indefinitely./

It was his own fault he lived now with pain. He had done too much, overstretched himself and that was purely his fault. In his eagerness to see and touch what was long denied him, he had moved too quickly. The mistakes were his and he deserved the punishment of pain.

/I am worthy of you and only you are worthy of my touch. Only you are worthy of the pleasure I can give./

The darkness was almost complete, the heavy drapes drawn to exclude the daylight from his safe haven, were now no longer required. He could get up, if he wanted to and pull the curtains aside and admire the darkness of the night. He could imagine walking arm in arm with the beauty who was his alone, through moonlit gardens. The night would be wondrous, the moon shining on his hair. No one other than he was worthy of admiring such beauty by moonlight.

/Where are you? Where have they taken you?/

In the darkness the pain was muted, almost distant. Light made the pain a mad thing, alive and all-consuming and only the deep night gave him rest. Light was too much for his sensitive eyes and the activities of so many people through the day was a source of pain that shattered his thoughts.

They had warned him there would be instances where he must seek seclusion. Warned him he must forever walk in shadows, or have his awareness stripped from him. The world was full of wonders and the headblind could not understand the beauty witnessed by the truly gifted. He had been warned to go with care and he had erred, becoming enraptured with the idea of touching his heartfelt desire.

/My mistake and now I must heal. I can make no more errors; I must not repeat the same mistakes again. I will grow stronger and when I am free of this pain... I can claim what is mine./

It was night out there now and undoubtedly His wondrous perfection was enhanced by sleep. He might have sought Him out, perhaps woken Him from peaceful dreams, shown Him what it was to be adored and, perhaps, even tempt Him back to his bed. Ah, the touch of Him would be magic, pure, elemental magic. His scent would be all captivating, drawing him on and guiding him unerringly to his desire.

But for this to happen, first the pain must go.

He must, once more, be able to walk in the light without cringing and weeping from consuming agony.

His back was pressed reassuringly into the solidity of his bed. The world still had a tendency to waver about him, so much so that he dared not attempt to stand, not even to draw aside the curtain and look upon the midnight world. It would come, though. The pain was much reduced and would go, leaving him free once more. He would seek out his future and claim Him.

/I cannot permit them to hide you from me forever. I need only pass through the pain and find the quiet place once more./

It would be very good indeed to be free of pain.

A smile curved full lips and his fingers curled gently, feeling phantom strands of silken hair and warm flesh. So perfect and, beyond a doubt, his to admire and protect and claim.

The pain was easing. It would not be long now.

Trembling fingers closed on the hypodermic and dragged the small vial toward him. It would take a little more of the drug to ease the pain enough for him to move freely, but it was worth the risks. He would need more of course. He would need to have his house in order for the day he brought his lover home.

000000000000000000000000000000

"God. I hate mornings."

Sunlight streamed into his office and lent everything a cheery brightness. He grimaced and rubbed his eyes with a weary hand. Sunlight aggravated his throbbing headache and reminded him of just how comfortable his bed was. He had not had the pleasure of enjoying a bed for any more than four hours or so a night, for the last few days. Even a steaming hot shower and a hearty breakfast, that tasted curiously like soggy cardboard, had done little to ease the headache.

/Bloody neural net./

The headaches would pass, his physicians had assured him. The discomfort would fade. The surgeon had been specific about the dosages he was to take of his pain meds. He needed to function, to keep his thought processes clear and on track and the headache just kept pounding away at him; distracting him and reminding him he had missed two scheduled doses of medication in less than twenty-four hours.

Taking two blood red pills in hand he swallowed them, with a healthy swig of cooling coffee as a chaser. He settled back into his seat, closing his eyes against the invading sunlight and wished he did not have to face the day. The finding of the body, the nightmare of rearranging security around the hotel and securing a transport loop between the university and hotel… it was never ending.

His stress levels were through the roof, his blood pressure too high and his physicians would be in fits of outrage if they could have monitored him now. He had a scheduled scan in a week to ensure there were no problems with the neural net and by then, hopefully, he would have the problems associated with corpses in dormitories and stalkers resolved.

Groaning at the knock on his door he swung his feet to the floor and straightened his shoulders. He had work to do and wallowing in self pity was not a part of that work.

"Come in."

His assistant and an armload of paperwork, presented himself and deposited the offending folders neatly on the desk. A clipboard was proffered, together with a pen and Otto sighed, dismissing thoughts of bed and focusing on the tasks at hand. The headache would just have to be ignored, as he had been ignoring it for the past two days.

"This is the most urgent. Authorization is required for the modifications to the security system in the dormitory block."

No need to ask which building was requiring a complete overhaul. There was only one dormitory of interest at this time and while it was in its current deplorable condition he had taken the opportunity to upgrade its security systems. The Board of Governors had not so much as quivered at the projected price tag, too frightened something might happen to their precious Mr. Winner.

He looked over the listings and the prices quoted and decided it could have been worse. A second clipboard replaced the first, with barely sufficient time for him to lift the pen from the paper. A list of camera placements to be approved, both upgrading existing networks and installing new systems, to improve the coverage of the grounds surrounding the dormitory.

A light tap on the door found Otto looking into the Dean's worried eyes. He was not particularly thrilled to be faced with the man at this early hour, there was work neglected for two days to catch up on, before the investigators returned to the campus. There would be sure to be further complications to be handled given the Agency investigation. There were always complications.

Hargraves himself should have had a desk overflowing with neglected paperwork.

/I am not paid enough./

Otto nodded briefly to the Dean, motioning for him to enter and have a seat while he quickly perused the facts and figures, jotted down a notation or two and finally set his signature to the report. Passing the clipboard back to his subordinate he waved the man toward the door.

"That's fine. Run another check of the camera feeds on blocks D and E. I want a visual done on every millimetre of wiring. They are to look for any sign of potential splicing into the camera systems and I want the new circuit diagrams for the security feed on my desk by mid-afternoon."

"Sir."

The door closed on the assistant's heels and Otto leaned back in his chair, pushing the pile of folders to one side. With his junior occupied and free for the moment to ignore the waiting paperwork, Otto turned his attention to the man watching him from across the desk.

"What can I do for you, Sir?"

"Was there any disturbances involving Winner's suite last night?"

He supposed he could not blame the man for panicking, given the disaster and the risks involved in moving the students off the grounds. Day three would hopefully present some resolution and no additional upset to the routine of the student body. Two days of unmitigated disaster was proof positive even the much touted Tsuberov security systems were not immune to breaches. Why should anyone trust a hotel's security system over the extensive setup Tsuberov boasted?

First the body in the refrigerator and the very next morning the suite was torn apart, both incidents at least indirectly involving the Winner heir. If the breach in security became generally known, Tsuberov's standing as the safest place for the rich and famous to educate their offspring would be torn to shreds. The Board of Governors were probably on Hargraves back to deal with the trouble quickly and quietly. Expediently, they would say; deal with it expediently.

"There were no problems with the security at the hotel. I escorted all eight of the students to the university this morning with no trouble, though they are united in their disapproval for being dragged out of bed at five in the morning."

He was not too thrilled at the idea of having to be up at four to ensure everyone else was on time. There had to be less stressful employment opportunities out there somewhere.

Dark eyebrows liberally dusted with white arched to meet the Dean's hairline. "What on earth did you drag them out of bed at that hour of the morning for?"

"Mr. Merquise is slated for an early class. I am lacking sufficient manpower to have each and every student escorted between the university and hotel to meet individual class requirements. To allow time for them to dress and eat breakfast and have Merquise in class on time, a five o'clock alarm was required. I have discovered, to my disgust, most of the students at the hotel are not morning people. Coffee?"

"Please."

The Dean watched as Otto poured him a cup and settled back into his chair. It was not until he had enjoyed a mouthful of the reviving brew that he leaned back in his seat, allowing himself a few minutes to relax.

"Merquise. What am I going to do about him?" A tired sigh. "When I arrived at my office an hour ago, I found two notifications from Prime Telepathic Empaths waiting for me."

"Ah." Otto sighed. "I was wondering how long it would take before word circulated."

"They wished to advise me as they have become aware we have a budding Prime talent, we are to be congratulated on training our first Prime." The Dean snorted into his mug. "Damn Kushrenada for noticing him. The least he could have done was not spread the word."

There was an unspoken reprimand in that quiet voice and Otto had no trouble hearing it. Nor had he expected to be spared the blame for the turn of events that had revealed Zechs Merquise and his talent. The Dean was not the one who would have the most to say about that specific breach of security.

"I could not very well refuse to make the introductions once the Duke requested he meet with Zechs. You do not refuse that man when he makes so simple and reasonable a request, not without having a very good reason. A reason, I might add, I did not have."

The Dean nodded and glowered into his mug. "We were requested to keep Merquise's presence here low key and that was going quite well until yesterday. How low key can we hope to keep him when every Prime Talent in the Earth Sphere knows he exists and demands to know how many times a day he blows his nose?"

Otto snickered into his mug and set the coffee aside. "I'm sorry, but I refuse to participate in counting tissues. If they want to know, they can count themselves."

Hargraves grinned, shaking his head. "There is nothing we can do about it. The word is out on him and I cannot see how we are going to be able to maintain a discreet screen around him. Primes talk, we know that only too well and not just to their counterparts of similar talent. Before the end of the day I expect every Prime talent in the Earth Sphere Unified Nation to know the nine will become ten at the end of the school year. Every politician and business will know there is another one up for contract and will want a piece of the action. If they have the bank balance for it."

"Have you received new instructions concerning the changed circumstances?" Otto queried.

"There has been no response to my alert from his Guardian. I have no idea what his reaction to the situation will be, but I do know he will not be happy. I am expecting word from his benefactor today, possibly around noon. I would think that should give him sufficient time to determine what changes he wishes be made to Merquise's education program and training schedules. No doubt he will detail alterations to his security needs as well. I will pass those along to you as soon as I receive them."

Otto nodded, turning the cup absently in circles. "I thought last night went well."

"Yes, rather better than I expected. Merquise could not be faulted on his deportment. He was better behaved than certain others I expected more of at the dinner. Do you think he seemed a little… out of sorts?"

"You noticed that? Well, I am pleased it was not just me thinking he was a little off. He did not make a show to disgrace Tsuberov and he ignored the sniping of Mueller gracefully enough. I am of the opinion he performed more than adequately given the occasion."

"Mueller is beginning to annoy me." The Dean stared into his half empty mug and shrugged. "Zechs has the manners of a gentleman when he cares to exercise them and fortunately last night was such an occasion. I can just imagine his benefactor's reaction if Merquise had played up. He will undoubtedly be unhappy I held the dinner, but appearances must be maintained. It would have seemed notable if the Tsuberov students had not spent their first night as a group at the hotel."

"It went well, despite the odd slip from one or another of the students. Not even his Guardian could have faulted him."

Zechs had been a trifle preoccupied. Otto could only wonder what had demanded his attention. He had, however, been the epitome of the Tsuberov-trained gentleman. He had been a far cry from the orphan with too many street smarts and not enough manners who had first arrived at the University.

"I have to wonder how much longer he will tolerate these deportment lessons. I expected him to be kicking and screaming about continuing this year and he has been disturbingly quiet. It is time he could better utilize to improve his grades and perfect his talent."

"You will not get an argument out of me. He is heartily fed up with the lessons and, if anything, they are reinforcing to him and everyone else at the University, his less than glowing background. He knows more about the do's and don't of polite society than those born and raised to the position."

"I don't know how we are to improve on what he already knows. How are we supposed to make manners second nature to him? It is not as though he runs around swearing at everybody and still his benefactor insists the lessons continue. He was on the streets too long to give up the speech and mannerisms completely. It is only natural he occasionally slip into a more relaxed vocabulary. He does not need constant reminding he was a street brat."

"I believe the better method now for improving his deportment would be to place him in the company of someone with the background of Prime Kushrenada. Breeding and training ooze from the Duke and Zechs reacted to it on an unconscious level. Exposing him to someone like the Prime, who impressed him without even trying to, would be the best option for helping him to pick up the natural way of using the mannerisms he has been taught."

"Kushrenada could charm bees into abandoning a hive full of honey." Hargraves pushed his cup aside and leaned back in his seat, studying Otto for a long moment before he decided he needed to speak. "Given his benefactor, can you honestly see permission being given for Merquise to associate with Kushrenada in the circles he keeps? We are supposed to be civilizing the young man, not giving him license to relapse into childhood habits."

Otto grinned, imagining the reaction should either of them dare to suggest to Merquise's benefactor the young man be exposed to the Prime. It was not Kushrenada's bloodline or rank that was the problem, but his lamentable occupation that worthy would object to.

"In all fairness to the Duke, I do not believe he actually gutter crawls."

"Kushrenada's association with the criminal elements of the ESUN and the fact he turned his back on family traditions that have been the mainstay of our society for centuries, would be enough to give him apoplexy."

"Not everyone is cut out to be a politician simply because others in the family were politicians." Otto grinned. "I have a lot of respect for that man. It took a great deal of guts to stand up to his family and come out of the fray smelling like a rose."

"I agree. Associating on a more relaxed and natural level, with those naturally born to high rank, would loosen up that stiffness in Merquise's deportment. It is not likely to happen, though. My only hope is his Guardian does not make a fuss before the Board of Governors over this incident. I have nothing against the young man, Otto, but I wish they had placed him somewhere else. But they placed him here… and then they had to compound their error by enrolling the…"

"Otto." The office door opened and a tall form leaned through the door, the man having his attention focused on a sheaf of papers in his hand. "A request has come in from the Agency concerning those records you were requested to gather… Ah, sorry. I didn't now you had company."

He had the grace to blush and nodded in belated acknowledgement of the two men seated at the desk. Otto sighed softly, thankful for the reprieve. He had not been keen on pursuing the conversation down that rocky road, particularly as he agreed with certain arguments of the Dean, though not for the exact same reasons. Merquise had had to endure more stress than was technically required by being place within Tsuberov. He was of the opinion it would have been wiser to have installed him in another institution, for basic grounding in dealing with the strict regime required at Tsuberov. One year would not have been too much to ask, in his opinion, but no one had wanted to know it.

"Come in, Jeremy. Next time knock." Otto motioned the hastily retreating man to stay and turned back to the Dean, not averse to escaping an uncomfortable subject. "I will await further instructions, Sir, and act appropriately."

Hargraves nodded, rising and admitting to himself he had work to do he had neglected too long. He and Otto had had this discussion before and he knew it placed the younger man in an awkward position. There were so few people who knew what was happening at Tsuberov, it was hard to avoid the subject when they had the time, and privacy, to indulge.

"I will send word to you as soon as I receive instructions on what changes must be made. I am cancelling the dancing lessons until the dormitory block is repaired, that way at least the group can sleep to a more respectable hour. I believe Mr. Winner has a late training session this evening in lab three?"

"Mr. Winner has a booking in laboratory three and Mr. Merquise, I believe, has a session in laboratory five. They are the only two students of the eight with scheduled Psi sessions after six o'clock this evening. I thought I might escort the others to their hotel and then return to pick up Mr. Winner and Merquise around nine."

The Dean nodded. "Acceptable, provided neither leave the central enclosure."

Otto smirked. "I assure you, they will be monitored closely by my staff. I will be suggesting to them they take the opportunity to eat in the cafeteria, while I escort the other students to the hotel."

"Very well. One can only hope we can continue to maintain control of the situation."

Otto rose and shook the Deans hand and motioned to Jeremy to place the reports on his desk. "See the Dean out please, Jeremy."

Otto settled back in his seat as the door closed behind Hargraves and pressed his thumbs into his temples, massaging gently. The last thing he wanted to do was aggravate his headache by throwing himself into the puzzle of the stalker and the corpse and how to keep control of the situation. He needed to discover what was going on under his very nose and sort the mess out. It was rather a humbling experience to see how easy it was for his security system to be breached.

"Why the fuck didn't the bloody stalker take a fancy to one of the students in another dormitory block?"

It would have been so much easier and surely his headache would not be so bad if that had been the case.

/He will have to do something. Not even he can keep this quiet forever./

t.b.c


	18. Chapter 18

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 18/

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 18/??

Author: Karina

/…/ Thoughts

/.../ Telepathy

… Empathic Impression translated from emotion into symbolic words.

_Italics_ Flashback / Memory

Chapter 18

Waking hours later than his usual routine set the day off to what seemed a poor start. There was no lying in bed with the privacy screen lowered and his telempathic ear tuned to the waking of the world beyond his apartment. Until he was deprived of it, he had not realized how much he looked forward to this quiet time. Missing the moment shunted his day into the not quite right category, before he even considered what lay ahead of him.

He made it through his shower without considering what he must do by sheer iron will. Deciding what would be the best response to his partner's fubar was something he determined he could not face, without at least one decent cup of coffee. Given coffee making facilities was not a standard feature of his shower he determined he must delay consideration of the dilemma.

This, of course, brought the sordid details to mind begging to be noticed and almost ruined a perfectly good shower.

Leaning against the rear wall with the hot water streaming over him was a blessedly peaceful time in a day he had to force himself to face. There was, despite his personal preference, no escaping it. Once he walked out of his apartment he would officially have started his working day, and he would have no option other than to face the cold hard reality of the decision he must make.

Not having to be into work at the usual hour he might have considered a luxury on any other day, but not this morning. He supposed he had rarely felt less like facing a working day, but he was not a coward and some things had to be done. Avoiding the issue would serve no useful purpose and, at this point in time, he had no idea how he was going to handle this mess. He would not run from it, much as he might wish to. He could not pretend the altercation had not happened, too many people knew of it for him to simply forgive and forget.

When he dealt with the problem initiated by his partner he still had the investigation to face ahead of him. He would not shirk the search for the killer or the stalker. He needed to determine if the two, killer and stalker, were the same person and who, of the three students sharing a suite, was the stalker's infatuation.

There were so many questions unanswered in this investigation and he needed his full attention on the puzzle. Being distracted by this altercation with Chang was placing the three young men at greater risk, and he could not permit it to continue.

Having taken his time dressing he descended the stairs, his sock clad feet silent on the treads and noted the message light blinking on the answering machine. He vaguely recalled setting the machine on his way to bed the night before, but to answer it now would be to permit the working day to begin. He was not ready to consider the day officially started and messages, undoubtedly from the Agency, could await his pleasure.

He paused beside the machine and eyed it for a long moment. The thought this might be a call from a family connection was dismissed; few relations concerned themselves with the social niceties with him. Despite being the Duke he had, as far as too many of them were concerned, turned his back on the traditions of the family. Business concerns went through his business manager and he checked for calls from that worthy periodically through the day. That he could recall there were no business matters pending which would require his personal attention at this time.

The only thing he could be certain of was the call would not concern Mariemaia. Any matters referring to her were prioritized and an alarm would sound to alert him if he did not pick up the call.

There was, of course, the possibility there may have been another incident at the university and that possibility had his hand hovering over the play button. The stalker might have sought out his target at the hotel, though he felt it fairly certain Une would have had someone break down his door if he was required urgently. She would have known Sally would sedate him and nothing short of a bomb exploding in his immediate vicinity would rouse him.

"It can wait, at least until I have coffee."

He found it a settling routine, the making of coffee and preparation of breakfast. Unlike some mornings he need not hurry, as Sally would no doubt strip the flesh from Une should she consider summoning him in her infuriating superior fashion. It felt almost decadent, having so tardy a start to the day.

He liked to keep busy and was not one to sit idle and do nothing. Keeping his days full had never bothered him, but there was such a thing as too much. Sometimes he needed to slow down and, if nothing else, throwing a temper tantrum might bring a change for the better in his circumstances. He had needed to draw a line and force the issue and, though it had not been intended, he would make use of the incident to see his needs adequately met.

He was not a prima donna, though he was well aware there were agents who would consider his display of the previous day proof he was a spoiled rich boy. Others would accuse him of shirking responsibility, when all he wanted was to have his needs as a Prime respected. Those needs were not so much for his own comfort as they were for the safety of those around him.

Not that anyone would understand until a Prime chanced to go off the deep end of sanity and took down half the city with him. Something he was not intending he be the first to do.

/I should check the news logs./

It was possible he may have broadcast his agitation sufficiently to affect the general population. The Agency monitored the emotional levels of the city and his presence and state of mind the evening before might have given rise to social agitation on more than a personal level. He might have leaked sufficient agitation to set off the more sensitive members of the population, who in turn might have responded in kind to his emotional gradient.

"Christ, I probably set off dozens of arguments and fist fights. I only hope I never got anyone killed."

He found himself staring at his breakfast plate and wondering when he had actually eaten the food. He had no memory of sitting down to eat, but the plate was before him, obviously used and quite empty. He tilted his coffee cup and discovered that too was empty and huffed a disgusted breath. That simply would not do. One needed to savour a decent brew and, if there was one thing he did know, it was how to brew decent coffee.

He poured the second cup from the French Press and pushed his empty plate aside, unfolding his newspaper. He hoped he would not be reading about mass riots, or an increase in police call-outs to domestic disputes overnight. He was almost afraid to see if there had been a rise in murders in dark alleys, or in speeding fines and larrikin behaviour in the areas he had wandered the night before. He might have sent people into hysterics or sudden rages, cowering in fear or experiencing sudden lustful desires. There were so many ways an out of control Prime might affect the general population.

He took time to savour the robust taste of the coffee. He was particular about his choice of beans and ground enough each morning for his daily use. He was serious about his coffee and he knew it amused Chang he was so particular, but Chang had a tea fetish so he could not talk. For Treize the act of making coffee was far more than the drink at the end of the process.

He used the stages of brewing coffee to monitor and maintain his moods. Preparing the perfect drink required precise control and he had trained himself to ease into relaxation techniques during this process. Though some people might find it strange, he had even come to equate making certain coffee blends as a sensual experience, not that he would inform anyone of that little fact. Enough people looked at him as though he was a specimen in a bottle without adding more to their number.

Over time he had found he was predominately a taste and touch person. He tended to use certain of his Psi abilities in much the same manner as he analyzed information with these two senses; many of his descriptions tended to be flavour or touch-orientated. Nor was he the only high talent psi who analyzed their extra sensory abilities in more familiar terms of flavours and textures.

It was exceedingly annoying for someone who desired touch as much as he, to be forced to restrict himself from indulging in touching. Physical touch amplified his psi ability, and he had learned early why high talent telepaths and empaths avoided unnecessary touch. Sensory overload was something he had needed help with too often in the past for him to touch as freely as his nature wished. He had decided years ago it was a small price to pay, this enforced isolation, for peace of mind.

It was the ever indomitable, and always right, Gabriella who took him to task over his abuse of himself. She had forced him to acknowledge why he had had so much difficulty maintaining control of his abilities. Under her instruction he had acquired control and learned just how much touch was too much. She had even offered him the hope, sometime in the future, there would be one he could touch to his heart's content and there would be no repercussions to torture his senses.

/Gabriella./ He smiled into his coffee, a nostalgic and fond expression. /There is no one quite like her. At least I don't have to deal with her over this loss of control issue. Which, of course, brings me back to Chang Wu Fei and what I have been trying not to think about. I have to decide how I am to deal with him. There will need to be some form of discipline. He needs to be made to remember telepaths and empaths have a strict code of conduct and he should not trespass. He cannot go around making such serious mistakes and expect to get away with it./

Not even his morning coffee was going to brighten his outlook today.

No matter how he looked at this mess, whatever decision was made would reflect not only on his future, but that of his partner as well. Avoiding the issue as he had done in the past would not help. There had been past instances when Chang had stepped over the line and he had let those instances go, choosing not to make an issue of them. That was no longer an option. If there was no discipline in response to this latest breach of etiquette, there would be nothing to stop Chang Wu Fei from repeating the same mistake with another telepath of high level.

That telepath would not be so inclined to take a step back from confrontation.

If Chang was fool enough to accuse another talent, then there would be no help for the man.

He wanted to smooth over the bungle, for fear of endangering Chang's chances of having the family that was so important to him. It was possible he might be sanctioned and his family plans put on indefinite hold by the powers that be. If Wu Fei failed to understand the severity of his gaff, his life could take a very different, and not entirely pleasant, course.

If Treize could not smooth over this latest and severest bungle and have Chang understand his mistake, then he could be laying the groundwork for the end of Chang Wu Fei's career. How many warnings would employers give to an employee who seemed unable to keep his mouth closed? How many employers would permit an employee to pass judgement on his fellow employee's sexual orientations and expect to keep key personnel?

It was entirely feasible Chang might be brought before a judicial hearing if he made a mistake of this nature again. If that should happen everyone involved would have their characters examined under microscopes, accuser and victim alike. In such a hearing everyone would pay, to some degree, for a moment of unthinking carelessness.

/How many times have I told him a loose sexual thought, amid a telepathic circle, could be viewed as the equivalent of rape? The human mind, particularly the mind of a human male, is sexually oriented and a certain amount of sexual overtone is to be expected and accepted. But there are limits. Particularly with telepaths there are lines over which we do not step for the benefit of our fellows. No one in a telepathic circle jokes about sex. We steer away from sex in our public minds as much as possible, beyond the unavoidable and very natural, appreciation for the human form we happen to be viewing at the time. Is his problem the fact I am a confirmed homosexual? I have to wonder if he is a suppressed homophobic. Chang can be infinitely sensible most of the time… and he can be a bloody fool./

Not that being a fool was the exclusive province of medium-sized, telekinetics of oriental descent. Everyone had their moment when they wished they could crawl under a log and hide from the world, following a particularly stupid comment or deed. He did not doubt Sally would have given Chang a detailed lecture on the etiquette of sex amid telepaths before she permitted him to sleep. Could he believe telling the man, yet again, where not to tread would cure the problem?

/If he says something similar to another telepath, or empath, he could be brought up on charges and I will have no say in what happens to him./

Put simply, Treize did not want such a thing to happen. Basically Chang was a decent sort, if a little hot-headed and tended to walk around with a rod up his backside. He needed to smooth over the incident somehow to ensure Chang had a future, not so much for Wu Fei himself, but for his wife and soon-to-be family. Hard as it was Treize knew he could not ignore the incident this time and must request some form of discipline be applied to his partner.

/If I had reacted to some of his earlier comments in a semi-official warning, then perhaps it might not have come to this./

He had been careful to keep his personal interest out of his conversation with Merquise. He had questioned his desire to meet with the younger man before he had made the request of Otto, and he was certain there had been no ulterior motive of a personal nature behind the request.

There was a certain etiquette involved when meeting another person with the potential to equal one's own abilities. He was a Prime and Merquise was a young man developing a talent which would grant him the same Prime status in the near future. Etiquette amid their select circle required he meet the younger man and assess him.

Undoubtedly Tsuberov had its own specific etiquette for such meetings. Protocols he had stomped all over when he had requested the spur of the moment meeting. It was one of the perks of being a Prime Talent, to be able to disregard such protocols without fear of censure, though he was careful how often he abused the privilege. As one of the nine Primes in his field who were sane and functional it was his right, indeed it was his obligation, to investigate any individual brought to his attention who could join their select group.

He had no problem with confirming to his eight counterparts, scattered throughout the Earth Sphere as they were and, therefore, unable to personally meet with the young man, that Zechs Merquise would be the tenth to hold the title and responsibilities of a Prime.

It was natural to be curious and to take the opportunity to indulge said curiosity when it presented itself. He knew each and every one of the Primes would have taken the chance, as he had, to meet and greet the younger man. Every Prime in their grouping and a good few of the Primes in other fields, would take whatever opportunity might present itself to contact Merquise and make a personal assessment.

Once again on the roundabout of emotional hurt, he subjected himself to microscopic scrutiny, seeking any sexual overtone within their meeting. Once again he felt he could say, with complete honesty, there had been nothing beyond the very human appreciation for a rare beauty. A purely private and personal assessment, acknowledging to himself what nature had given the young man. A thoroughly human reaction held behind private shields and guarded, as every telepath and empath guarded their sexual thoughts.

Any heterosexual male had the exact same reaction when they looked at a woman who crossed their path. No one in this predominately heterosexual world gave a damn if a male appreciated the female form. It was expected, but let a homosexual male look at another male and all hell broke loose. Two women could size themselves up and no one would think it uncommon, unless one of those women was known to be a lesbian. If a woman eyed a male and the male noticed, he would strut a little and in response the woman might preen for him to notice her interest.

It was a primitive reaction, basic to human nature, a part of the human courtship ritual most people took for granted and never thought to question. Making eyes at each other was all a part of finding a mate. Anything that went against what was generally accepted, male to female, was considered by too many to be unnatural. Wrong.

It was sexual discrimination and it was rife throughout the Earth Sphere, even in these supposedly enlightened times. There might not be the huge social stigma there once had been, if one announced they were interested in a member of the same sex, but it was still far from an even playing field. He knew there were whispers enough about his sexual orientation circulating around certain high circles, and it was unfortunate. The unhappy truth was a Prime Talent was never ignored.

Despite Chang and his unthinking accusation, Treize could say he had not projected his appreciation of the younger male upon Merquise. He had contained his reaction in a far more rigid manner than any heterosexual male would have, if introduced to an equally attractive female.

/Screw Chang's homophobia. He'll simply have to get over it./

At his meeting with Merquise, brief though it had been, he had found the younger man to be surprisingly shy and withdrawn, this despite his known history of spending time on the streets. There was an innocence about Merquise any Prime worth his salt would have no trouble detecting. Treize had also sensed an aching need within the young man, for a sense of security and stability in his life.

Merquise was well aware his future was in doubt, despite his strength of talent.

/You don't lift someone off the streets and place him in an elite educational facility and leave him unobserved. Instruction was given to Tsuberov, but it takes more than money and guidelines to rear a child to become a caring and well turned-out member of the community. There is something suspicious about this Guardian and what he intends for Merquise. I need to know who this benefactor is and what his, or her, intentions are toward Zechs. The other Primes were no less concerned than I by what I read from him. It is of concern to us all we do not lose one of our own to what smacks of shadowy dealings. I sensed in him a deep sense of personal honour, which will not sit well with deception and what might be criminal dealings. Merquise would not make an easy accomplice to criminals. The stress would drive him over the edge into insanity./

Not that this problem had a baring on the situation he had been requested to investigate. Or did it? Trowa had a valid point when he cast doubt on the identity of the intended victim. Was it Quatre Winner who was the target, or was there room to ponder the possibility the stalker had another target in mind? He needed to ascertain the identity of the intended victim, and to be certain there was no doubt in that identification.

/As Trowa mentioned, Quatre is not the only individual in the dorm with potential. All three are handsome young men, handsome enough to draw the eye of male and female admirers. I strongly suspect, though there is always room for doubt, that both Winner and Merquise are homosexual, though I suppose one, or both of them, might be bisexual. Maxwell gives off signals which suggest he might be bisexual, though I cannot say for certain where his inclination might lie, not without peeking. He has an eye for a male, that is clear enough and he has no problem flirting with girls from what I have heard. Winner is the heir to a fortune and his father would pay well should a ransom be presented. Maxwell has his special project which, I must admit from the little I viewed, has potential for space exploration and increasing safety during space maintenance. The boy will be worth a fortune in the future should he complete his designs. Merquise is almost a Prime talent and someone may have aspirations on where that talent is used./

He sipped his coffee and tilted his head back to stare unseeing at the window. No, he could not point a finger at one of the three and say with absolute certainty this was the most likely target. He needed to see why they had decided Winner was the target.

"Yes, Trowa, we should not forget the other two. They each have something to offer other than good looks and a friendship with Winner."

The door chime jarred him from his thoughts and he glowered, affronted to be reminded of everyday life so rudely. Who could be calling at this hour of the day? He would normally have been gone from his apartment and he did not need to be at the office for another two hours, so no one from the Agency should be bothering him. With a huff of disgust he glared at the offending door and flipped over a page of the newspaper. It was as the page settled that he realized he had no idea what was on the page he had been staring at for the last half an hour.

"Well, damn."

He ran a hand through his hair, glowering at the newspaper. Perhaps he should simply go back to bed.

The chime rang again, a pleasant tone requesting his attention and he ignored it as gracelessly as he had the first, for good measure hissing his displeasure. He had assumed Une and Sally would have the good sense to understand he preferred to make his own way into the office. With the sedative Sally had given him the night before they would know not to expect him in at his usual hour.

A third press of the chime drew a growl from him and a glare that would have melted an iceberg. He would have words to say and it would be just another point amidst many he would make on his arrival at the office. He was not surprised when there was a brief pause and a soft bleep signalled the com unit was active.

"Kushrenada will get his neat arse to this door and let Gabriella in, or Gabriella will fry his ears for him after she bashes down stupid door."

Indignation turned to slack-jawed delight at the laughing voice from the intercom. It was the matter of seconds before the delight morphed into utter horror.

Gabriella.

/Oh my God!/

Gabriella was at his door.

/What is she doing here?/

Treize was quick to abandon all imagined slights and make for the door to greet his surprise guest, almost falling over his own feet in his haste. It did not do to ignore Gabriella. He flung the door open to be engulfed in a bear hug and a flow of warm thoughts; his mind was hugged as thoroughly as his body was hugged physically.

"What are you doing here?"

Though she was head and shoulders shorter than Treize, she outweighed him by nearly half his body weight. It was her presence which gave her an impression of towering height and it always came as a surprise to Treize to realize how short she was, when he had the good fortune to be hugged by her. She radiated a solid powerful confidence which Treize's mind interpreted as height.

Gabriella was something more than chubby; she was solid and earthy, but there was mystery and mystique surrounding her. He supposed it was the results of her Romany ancestry, this mystique. She looked like a gypsy in her loudly coloured red skirt and with a silk shawl draped around her shoulders. On this occasion she was not wearing a headscarf and twin brightly coloured combs held her wild mane of hair in check.

As a telepathic empath he shied away from physical contact, but he could never retreat from Gabriella. She had been his salvation, guiding him to accept aspects of himself which had caused more than a rift between himself and his family. Gabriella refused to admit to having a surname and was the Prime he most liked of them all. Delightfully she specialized in hugging him to within an inch of his life, and he never wanted to contemplate losing her solid warmth.

"Let me in, naughty boy. How dare you keep old bones on a doorstep."

Giving up the hug reluctantly he drew her into his apartment, closing the door firmly behind him and was immediately engulfed in another rib threatening hug. She planted a kiss soundly on him and broke away, stalking across the width of the loft to glare at the windows, misted over with the privacy screen. All he could do was watch her with his heart lodged somewhere between his mouth and his chest. One needed approval from Gabriella and while they had met since she had turned him loose from her apron strings, she had never entered this particular apartment.

"It is good to see you."

While he had not been given permission to speak, he was no longer the younger male who had desperately clung to her, seeking her approval. She had stood between him and his enraged family in the past and while she had not been shy of disciplining him, she had always been fair and willing to listen. She was more his family than any of his relations who had governed his younger years.

"Always it is good to see Gabriella."

She had not changed and he prayed she never would. Turning from the window she snorted in a typical Gabriella expression of distaste, gesturing at the privacy screen.

"Where is trees and grass and water? One cannot relax properly without these things. Gabriella thought naughty boy understood this necessity."

"I work in the city, but there is a lovely park…"

He fell silent as a hand waved airily and then, in typical Gabriella fashion, she was off into an explosion of movement. He could only watch in silence as she sailed through his living area, peering into draws and cupboards, moving ornaments and staring at his artwork. If she approved the piece there would be a short sharp nod and if she did not there would be a scowl and grunt or odd hissing noise, accompanied by a dismissive gesture.

All he could do was watch her, with what he was certain was a foolish grin on his face. Gabriella was unique and he never wanted her to change.

"So then, naughty boy, you will now be explaining to Gabriella what set up red flag of alertness with Kushrenada emblazoned for every Prime to feel? Gabriella is far from amused with flag waving in ether for her to see."

The greeting was over and she was ready to get down to business and he would be expected to respond promptly and truthfully. Gabriella could smell a lie, large or small, with unfailing accuracy and shading the truth would not be appreciated. He knew there would be no deterring her from meddling and there was little he could do to contain her. Gabriella was a law unto herself and he knew of no one who could escape her once her mind was set. He was afraid Chang Wu Fei would be meeting justice face to face, in the form of an irate elderly gypsy. There would be little he could do to affect the course of events now Gabriella had chosen to interfere.

Still, for the sake of his partner, more specifically his partner's wife, he had to try.

"Nothing happened. Honestly, Gabriella, it's really nothing but a misunderstanding. I am more than capable of dealing with it and you did not have to come all this way for that."

"What is it making naughty boy think Gabriella is here for him, hmm?" She swept past Treize on her way to the staircase leading up to the loft bedroom, patting him on the cheek in passing. "Gabriella is having many duties, many tasks which must be done. Not just is Gabriella's ear tuned for Kushrenada."

He watched as the stairs creaked under her weight and she paused at the top, surveying his room. The thought he was glad he had paused long enough to make his bed briefly flitted through his mind. It was rare Gabriella was motionless and in the few times he had known her to be, the circumstances had been serious. With a shrug of broad shoulders she strode forward and began her investigation of his bedroom.

"What are you doing?" He took a hesitant step toward the stairs, concerned lest he set her off into a tirade. It was all too easy for her to become affronted and the consequences of her upset were rarely pretty.

He had suffered enough of her tempers in past years to know not to provide her with fuel if he could avoid it.

"Gabriella is looking, is this not obvious?"

Well, that was a little obvious, he decided, but looking for what? He only hoped she would find whatever it was she was searching for, or she was likely to tear his apartment apart.

"Looking for what?"

He watched from his position near the kitchen, which afforded him the best view, as she bent to, he presumed, peer under the bed. Straightening she considered the bed with her head tilted to an inquisitive angle.

"Evidence."

Treize could only blink, completely lost. Evidence? Of what? It was typical Gabriella. She never failed to confuse him and every time he promised himself he would deal with her on a more level footing the next time. He would stand up for himself and gain her respect and the accreditation of being an adult in her eyes, and every time he was left like a lost child reprimanded for having his hand stuck in a cookie jar.

"Evidence of…? "

His eyes widened as her ample form was launched at the bed and said bed groaned in protest. He choked back a protest, unable to do more than wonder if he would need to order a new bed as she bounced a time or two, testing the springs with a suggestive rhythm he knew was drawing a blush from him. The bed creaked as she hauled herself off the far side and he could hear, if not see, her opening drawers.

"Gabriella is looking for evidence my naughty boy has found himself company and Gabriella is not find it. Why do I not find this evidence of company?"

He tried to respond but his vocal cords were singularly uncooperative. He wondered if it had something to do with the amount of blood suffusing his face, as surely he had never blushed so hard in his life.

He watched her enter the bathroom and could only listen in pained silence to her rummaging through cupboards and drawers. He was shaking and was considering the virtues of finding a dark corner with a deep hole in which he could crawl. Perhaps there he might be far enough away from her to spare him further embarrassment.

Perhaps he should make a dash for the door and run as far and as fast as humanly possible?

But no, no one could escape Gabriella.

She was back on the steps and before he could retreat she was there, practically standing on his toes, dark eyes fiery bright as she looked him up and down.

"Well? Gabriella is waiting."

Treize backed a step as she loomed large before him, the bench top pressing into the small of his back and all he could do was try to control his furious blush. His jaw worked, but no sound emerged until Gabriella leaned forward, a wide grin showing perfect teeth.

"Gabriella is not going away, naughty boy."

God, she could be so embarrassing.

"I live alone."

He squeaked! A god awful, honest to God, squeak! How could he have forgotten her insatiable curiosity and total lack of respect for his privacy? His mother could not have been more embarrassing if she had lived long enough to oversee her maturing son.

"Gabriella is thinking she is smart enough to see this. Her Kushrenada is having not much in the way of visitors except for…" She paused, dark eyes narrowing. "Female doctors angry with oriental men? Ah, naughty one, why is it you are harder to teach than any others Gabriella has taken under her wing? As well it is you are favourite, but still your butt is in danger of a sound trouncing. You shall do something about the company you are keeping. Gabriella knows there is a brain in here somewhere." A stubby finger poked at his ginger head. "How must I teach you to use it? Have I not told you before to find yourself company, even a handsome male doctor instead of this female who thinks of decapitating her mate ?"

"Gabriella, please." It was a sigh of pained resignation and the day was only just beginning.

How was he to survive her? She would linger on and interfere in his life until she had matters settled to her satisfaction. If only she did not have a heart of gold he could tell her to leave him in peace, but he loved her dearly.

How would the Agency survive her?

"I am Gabriella and you are not to be forgetting it, my naughty boy. I am smelling real coffee, not horrid imitation served on shuttles people are expected to drink. Where are your manners, naughtiest of naughty boys?"

Gabriella on a public shuttle? Perish the thought. She would no more set foot on a commercial shuttle than her employer would consider booking her on one. It would have been a private shuttle with only the best of food and drink, but Gabriella had to have something to complain about.

"Of course." He stared at her for a moment and then, somehow, forced himself to step to the side and slip around the bench into the kitchen proper.

Coffee. He could do coffee. That was easy enough to manage, even with whirlwind Gabriella in his immediate vicinity. He could use the making of coffee to control his nerves. Fifteen minutes in her company was worse than working for the Agency for a year, not that he would tell her that, but why did she have to have an interest in his sex life?

"While you are making coffee you can be explaining this man you have found."

Did he detect emphasis on the word 'man', or was it his imagination? With Gabriella he would be unsurprised if there was indeed emphasis on the sex of Merquise. She could be as subtle as she could be direct and she had already made a point of meddling in his sex life.

"I have been elected by the seven Primes to meet with this Zechs and tell them what I am thinking of him. Zechs. What is this business with his name?"

Treize could only blink in owl-eyed fashion as he set the kettle to boiling. He was uncertain of what he should say, as Gabriella would already have made up her own mind about what to think of the unusual name. His head lifted from the kettle at a whomp from the direction of his couch, to find Gabriella had made her ample form comfortable and was in the process of destroying his paper by sorting it into an order more to her liking.

She was unique, a rare person one could not forget in a hurry, if ever. She had come into his life when he had desperately needed to meet the voice of reason. Gabriella had provided that voice and with it wisdom he could never hope to match. He would be forever grateful to her and it amazed him he could tolerate from her, what he could take from no one else.

One thing he had learned was you never offered Gabriella anything but home-made coffee. You were likely to be severely mauled if you offered her instant coffee and there were certain rules you did not bend in the making of 'real' coffee. The beans could be ground by a machine, but you must never ever brew her coffee in a machine. He had made that mistake once only and listening to her complaints about 'mechanical coffee' for the next week had ensured he never made the mistake again.

"Zechs is no name but a number. What mother is naming her child a number with a rank?"

To be on the safe side, though he had ground beans earlier, he ground more for her to know it was indeed fresh coffee he would be offering her. Washing out the French Press he winced as he watched the sports section of his paper find its way to the centre of her preferred selection and the cartoons migrated to the front. The former front page was now relegated to somewhere near the back, along with the for sale notices, public announcements and entertainment notices. How she managed to tear the pages so neatly every time he had not figured out, as to his certain knowledge there was not a trace of kinetic energy in the woman.

"The records I viewed from Tsuberov have no other name listed for him."

"Zechs Merquise." Gabriella considered the stock market listings for a moment before slipping them at the very back of the neat pile of paper taking form before her. "This is Sixth Marquis. I am finding it most curious a child is named after a number and rank. One has noticed there are many strange new naming customs appearing in the last fifty years and Gabriella is convinced healthy dose of common sense is needed to right many wrongs of society. Children grow up hating their names and are never happy with life as a result. We live in increasingly interesting time and Gabriella is enjoying the watching of the world. So tell me, my naughty boy, how old is this six?"

He resisted the urge to groan. She would take fiendish delight in driving him to distraction misusing the name, if she saw it bothered him. He could only try to give the impression he was unaffected by her antics. It was not as though he could do anything about the whimsy of the woman who had named her child after a number and then died, leaving her son to face growing up in an all too often unkind world.

Did she expect of him to leap to Merquise's defence, betraying if he harboured any emotion toward the younger man? He would be very careful not to make that mistake, or he would never be free of her teasing. He would not make any obvious comments, this was Gabriella and it was better to grin and nod. It saved a world of pain in the long run.

"Twenty."

"Twenty? Is he old twenty or perhaps young twenty? With name like six I am thinking he will be old twenty."

The newspaper rustled and he dared not look at her, concentrating on making coffee and keeping a neutral expression. He would not bite and give her added fuel, in the interests of self-preservation, and he silently apologized to the absent man she was using to test him.

"I see from dirty dishes you have eaten this morning, therefore Gabriella is assuming your mouth is awake, if not your voice. Come now and be honest with me. Is he old for his years or is he young? Is he talented with the use of his abilities or is he lazy? Is he handsome? Does he swing the way of male to female and does Gabriella have a chance with this Six, or will it be my naughty boy who has a chance to find the love of his life?"

"Gabriella!" He fumbled, almost dropping the French Press into the sink and stared at the woman in shock.

She had gone further than he had expected her too, between testing his bed and now openly questioning him on the sexual orientation of Merquise. Why did she insist on doing this to him? She seemed to make it her life's work to make him feel like a three-year-old caught with a fist full of stolen goodies.

"What?" Dark gypsy eyes blinked innocently at him. "You always were too aware of what other people think. Pfftt to other people." She made an expansive gesture, dismissing the world at large. "We are Prime, naughty one. We are few and we need to become more. Not even breeding amongst ourselves will assure viable prime talents in the future. You are not as are all of the other male primes… and for that I thank the Good Lord in Heaven." Both arms rose briefly toward his ceiling before falling back to her lap. "Too many talents are like Alonzo, or that hulking brute Adam and I would be grey-haired."

Treize sighed, knowing he was making a mistake, but he simply could not resist the temptation. He had so missed her, despite her embarrassing ways.

"Gabriella, my dear, you do have grey hair.'

"Ah, wicked boy. My naughty boy has pretty eyes and a cheeky mouth to match. You see this clump of grey here, naughty boy? This clump is belonging to you. You give me every one of these grey strands and is it not wonderful Gabriella is great enough to forgive you this mess of grey? Of course it is wonderful. Ah, look at this!" Her hand slapped the newspaper before her. "Did I not tell imbecile not to dabble on this horse? Is donkey! I know the man has lost a fortune. Come to me for a loan he best had not, or I will loan him big stick to shove up his posterior. Might teach him much needed lesson."

The paper was thumped and scrunched and Treize sighed. Undoubtedly he would be able to find another at the office, but that really was beside the point. Whenever Gabriella appeared in his life, his newspapers tended to die nasty deaths.

"Now then, Slow One Who Can Not Make Coffee Before Gabriella Dies Of Thirst; we will be entering together this torture chamber where you work. Gabriella will be talking to people about nastiness which has upset my naughty boy. This upset Gabriella has had enough of and you will be saying nothing except 'Yes Gabriella'."

He snapped his mouth shut on the protest, pinned by her glare into rethinking the virtues of silence.

"Gabriella was elected by Primes to see to this business and see to it I will. Already I have talked to this Une, who is in need of learning to speak back to oldsters living in last century. Warned her I have we will be speaking at length and I will have words with this Dragon who is of little flame and much noise. By the time Gabriella is finished with him he will squeak like mouse and hide in walls."

He had to make an attempt at least to get her to leave the matter to him. Chang might find himself sanctioned, if not expelled from working at the Agency and it was the last thing Treize wanted to happen.

"Gabriella that really is not…"

"Naughty boy will be silent, or he will not accompany Gabriella to Tsuberov school for idiots with much money. Kettle is boiling and Gabriella is waiting for coffee."

It was so much easier to give up gracefully. "Yes, Gabriella."

Maybe an interview with her would be enough to have Chang realize the error of his ways and he could always hope Gabriella took a liking to his partner. At least if she liked him he could be assured Chang would survive to see another day.

"I am needing to know everything there is to know about this number and rank who will be joining us."

Treize winced. She was a force of nature and in a temper she had taken down his family Elders. Did he dare consider the consequences of Gabriella set loose in Tsuberov? He shuddered at the very idea and the thought of her fronting Zechs Merquise and demanding to know why he was called Zechs… or fronting the teaching staff over faults only Gabriella would see… no, he did not want to contemplate the furor that would ensue.

"He is shy, Gabriella, nor is he unaware of the precariousness of his position and I ask you not to be too hard on him. He did not give the name to himself and he probably hates it. I had enough trouble growing up with the sly remarks about my name, to know what he must have gone through. He will be shy enough about meeting you without you frightening him to death."

"Frighten him?" Fists slapped the paper, rocking the table. "Gabriella frightens no one who does not deserve to be frightened! If he needs to quiver in boots of my design, have no doubt he will quiver. I am thinking I will be hugging this one to my bosom, much as I needed to hug you, naughty boy. Is as well I have ample bosom. Gabriella is good at finding lost boys and bringing them home. I will know if this one will be safe at home with me, or if he will do better in naughty boy's care."

He took refuge from her glare by returning to the task of making coffee. The kettle's contents were poured into the French Press and the kettle was filled and set to boil. He could only watch with trepidation as his visitor began, once again, to prowl his apartment. There was no sign for her to find of company in the suite, but perhaps this time it was simply her inability to sit still for long periods that set her off.

How could he convince her to leave the matter of Chang to him? He liked his partner well enough and he knew Wu Fei actually liked and respected him. One could not be a functioning telepath and empath and not know what one's workmates were thinking, though it was always better not to advertise the fact they were easy to read. There were work place ethics to be considered, when even a casual probe could lay bare the thoughts of the people surrounding him.

Chang had not been thinking along the lines of the restraints of a telepath when he had said what he had and if Treize had been more himself; if he had not been so stressed, he would not have reacted in such a volatile manner. The comment was innocent enough, unless you were a high level telepath more than capable of influencing people and force them into a situation that, had they been in their right minds, they would never enter into.

Chang was not a high level telepath or empath, so how could he, or anyone, understand who was not as he, a Prime, or near to a Prime level, talent. He could explain all of this to his visitor, but what was the use? Gabriella knew it all already, she had taught him in his younger years and she had warned him she intended to push her way into the life of Zechs Merquise. He had no doubt if she succeeded in interfering in the young talent's Guardianship, it would be to the benefit of Merquise. If he refrained from making comments on her high-handed methods, he might be able to explain about his partner's pending family situation. Perhaps he could spare Chang from, if not the worst of her tongue, then from official sanctions which would delay, or destroy, the beginning of their family.

If Gabriella was bound and determined to take a hand in the matter there was no force on Earth that could stop her. She had her own mind, her own ideals and her own code of honour. Woe betide you if you fell short of her expectations, or if you deliberately stepped over a line she alone could see. Experience had taught him there was much Gabriella saw that others missed.

Living in her vicinity could be precarious, but if her protection was offered to you, regardless of whether or not you needed it, you could not have a better friend.

Her interference would be to Zechs Merquise's benefit, though he wondered if the younger man could survive her presence in his life as well as he had. The best he could hope for was to somehow soften her impact on Chang's life and subtly encourage her to improve Merquise's prospects. She could certainly get away with more than he would, when it came to hunting down the mysterious Guardian and taking him, or her, to task over the pending question of future contracts.

"Let me guess, my Treize with the naughty eyes." She was watching him when he looked up and he resisted the urge to gulp, though he knew he had to be blushing by the heat in his face.

"Sorry?"

"You are liking this smokeless dragon, yes? And you are worrying Gabriella will have him dismissed and punished? Pffftt! How little you know of Gabriella." Dark eyes raised to the ceiling in silent appeal to some otherworldly listener, greying hair trembled as she shook her head a little. "Talk to the man I will do, rend him limb from limb I might, if I think he should be disembowelled for his loose tongue, but know you this; Gabriella will not ruin his life. Gabriella does not do this ruin thing. Where Gabriella goes improvement follows. Not only this dragon with a big mouth, but Une who hides her timidity behind false bravado and position, will meet with Gabriella. You will be knowing now I want this matter between you and her finished."

/God, she is going after Une too?/

Gabriella knew all about the aborted contract which lay at the heart of the aggravation between him and his superior at the Agency. He would have to watch his thoughts too, for if Gabriella learned he thought of Une's position as 'superior' in rank to his own, she would have his guts for garters. To Gabriella the highest rank attainable was that of Prime and no one, least of all another Prime, should think otherwise.

"I think we dealt with that old matter last night." He dared to interrupt, unwilling to have her raking up matters best left in the past.

They had been young and the Elders of her family had driven the entire regrettable matter too far, coming close to ruining both their lives.

She had spoken of it, if briefly and they had not gone for each others throats, which was great progress over past encounters. Une had ultimately faced her family elders, finally leaving their protection to begin her own life. Her position at the Agency had been earned, not purchased by family money and he respected her for her skills. Perhaps, in time, they might even approach each other on friendly terms, but for now there was a truce, of sorts.

Obsidian eyes focused on him in a baleful glare and Treize felt he should ooze below the bench top, just to escape her scrutiny. Those eyes held you and told you what a treasured fool you were and dismissed you to play with your toys while older and better minds worked for you.

"Gabriella." He dared to growl.

Dark eyes sparkled. "Ah, growing up a little. This is good, however Gabriella is here to attend to matters and attend to them she will, despite your growls. You are three points above your established safety levels, naughty boy and anything I can do to ensure you rise no higher into danger I shall do. Even if you squeal like little girl. How is little girl, by the way? I wish to meet with her before I leave."

/Oh God. Marie. What would you make of Gabriella? Please like her, but whatever you do, don't want to be like her, or you will drive me insane./

A foot tapped noisily against the floorboards and his eyes rose to find his guest smirking at him, daring him to say anything. She had always been good at reading through his shields and in the condition his shields were in at the moment, she had probably followed his every thought.

How embarrassing. No, better not to think about that.

"Does Gabriella have to come and finish the making of coffee?"

"Of course not. Almost done." His hands leapt to the cooling French Press. "Mariemaia is well and her education is progressing apace."

"Kettle was boiled almost full minute ago and still you look at cooling press. Ruining coffee you will be if you pay not adequate attention to what you are doing. Gabriella will be scaring Barton with a visit soon. Fossilized old stick needs to have some life scared into him."

Of course she would just happen to know Dekim Barton and be on good terms with him… or was that bad terms? Lord, he did not want his daughter caught up between Gabriella and Barton any more than he personally wanted to be caught between them.

Striding up to the bench she leaned forward, holding his gaze. He froze, caught by her eyes and the leashed power he could sense clearly within her. There was a gentleness to her few knew and she could be equally as cruel, though it took something outrageous to bring out the hard side of her. She was many things, but above all she was Gabriella and he had never had cause to distrust her.

"I will not interfere with your work, but know I will look into matters that concern Primes and you will not interfere. I see you enjoy your work in this place, but your work will not improve, only suffer, if you do not establish control. Control not of yourself, but of those who think to exploit you. You are too nice a boy, this is the problem and Gabriella will act where you will not . I will see Barton knows of my interest in little girl and I will see you settled and given your due at work. I will also meet with the Six and determine if he is a Prime."

Affronted she would doubt his word he paused, the French Press raised over the sink to pour away the cooling water, freshly ground coffee beans waiting to one side.

"No." She waved aside his protest before he could voice it. "Gabriella and the Primes do not doubt your word. It is the ability of Tsuberov idiots to care for a Prime we doubt. It may be we will take this Zechs under our care to complete his training and you will not be involved in this. Gabriella is to determine if this step is necessary and, if so, ensure it happens. You will be keeping your neat derrière out of the way, my naughty boy, unless I specifically ask of you something. I am not having you caught up in shit which might be flying when Gabriella begins to dig."

Treize considered the woman for a long moment as he emptied the press, deposited the ground beans within it and added the newly boiled water. Gabriella and the Primes must have been doing some serious talking while he was sleeping off the effects of his temper and the sedative, and he was uncertain he liked their interference.

"Don't you think that is a little heavy-handed? He does have a legal guardian and the last thing he needs is to be subjected to a custody suit. He is approaching twenty-one, Gabriella. It is not as though he is a child with years of his minority ahead of him. We do not know anything about his Guardian and what the actual plans are concerning his future. This uncertainty and fear of shadowy deals may well be smoke and mirrors. There may be nothing illegal happening."

"We will be learning this. I am knowing young men often think one thing is so and is not so when you look under rocks, but Gabriella is good at looking under right rocks to get at hidden truth. If there is trouble for a young Prime we will be learning it and we will take Six out of trouble before it begins. No one will be permitted to abuse a Prime, Kushrenada. No one."

Why did he have the sinking feeling he was not going to be rid of Gabriella for a long time? With this dynamic woman two days was a lifetime; an exhausting and often painful lifetime.

"How long are you here for?"

White teeth flashed in her dark gypsy face as she grinned. "Until I have done what needs to be done, naughty boy. Are you not pleased Gabriella has come to visit?"

t.b.c.

Karina Robertson 2007

————————-

Notes:

Treize Kushrenada : Level 10 Sending/Receiving Telepath + Receiving and Projecting Empath at Level 10. Prime rated. Agency Operative contracted term of 5 years with 2 years remaining. 25yrs of age Training facility: Psychic Institute Munich Division.

Gabriella : Romany descent. Level 10 Sending / Receiving Telepath + Level 10 Receiving and Projecting Empath. Prime Rated. Training facility rumored to be the old Government Laboratories of the Prussian Republic which was deposed in the year AC 45. Age: Unknown rumored to be approximately seventy four. Oldest of the Prime Telepathic Empaths.


	19. Chapter 19

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 19/

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 19/??

Author: Karina

/…/ Thoughts

/.../ Telepathy

… Empathic Impression translated from emotion into symbolic words.

Italics Flashback / Memory

Chapter 19

"If it is wanting a man you are, then meat on your bones you should put, and a smile on your face. No man is wanting a stick to embrace and a prune to kiss. Past is past, let it lie in the past you should. This is place of work, not grudges and in a position of responsibility you are. Gabriella is thinking acting like it you are not, and you should be."

Treize winced, struggling to keep all expression from his face. If Gabriella chanced to look in his direction he did not want to be drawn into her tirade.

"Be pretty, let your hair out of these earphones you wear. This would be letting sounds of real world in and things you would learn. You are woman of substance, not little girl whining in corner. Be woman. Elders have their place in life and respect them you should, but when they get senile to point of idiocy it is in pine box they belong. Decrepit windbags of overlong years not living life should not be living through the youngsters who follow them."

Gabriella was in full bloom.

No amount of money or promises could make him draw her attention until she had wound herself down, and at the moment she was only winding up.

He might have made his peace with Anne Une the night before… at least he thought they had made peace… but he was not inclined to place himself between his self-appointed, erstwhile Guardian and the target of her ire. He had already had his lecture and was not inclined to experience another.

"Know you not what a contract is? Is this bit of paper Gabriella is waving under your nose."

Une almost went cross-eyed as a sheaf of papers was thrust in pudgy fingers into her face, stopping just short of her nostrils.

"Is this bit of paper says you are not to overtax the resources of your Prime. Is this bit of paper says Gabriella can pin your arse to wall and throw darts at." Said contract was shaken forcefully with each word.

Experience had taught him when to back off and sit quietly in a corner, much like a little boy reprimanded for a minor indiscretion. Nor was he alone seeking shelter and anonymity in his safe corner of the office. His designated safe zone was occupied by Sally Po, who watched the Romany Prime with wide eyes and no small amount of what he thought might be awed amusement.

"Is she always like this?" Sally whispered, flinching from another grand gesture of the short chubby arms.

At this point in time the object of Gabriella's lecture, Anne Une was looking incredibly like a little girl caught with her hand in the cookie jar. The Prime had begun with a run down of Une's pedigree and the curs marring her bloodline. From there she had progressed to a detailed dissertation on the past performances of the Une family elders, in sufficient detail to make even Treize wonder who had performed the research Gabriella obviously drew on. The Romany Prime had pointedly informed the entire office how unfortunate it was the telekinetic in charge of the Agency's Operations section thought it appropriate to emulate some of those ancestors.

The Prime had commented on Une's deplorable conduct in holding on to the grudge over something as piffling unimportant as an aborted breeding contract. Gabriella had thence chosen to start in on Une's 'inability' to snare a man to warm her bed. Treize was fairly sure the flourishing of the contract was an indication the lecture would now progress to the contractual obligations meant to be under discussion and Une's personal life, or lack there of; mauled as it was, would now be left alone.

"Like this?" Treize blinked.

Turning to the woman beside him he shook his head slowly and made small hand motions, clearly signalling a request she lower her volume. He was unwilling to attract Gabriella's attention and when he answered he did so in a whisper, hoping the doctor would be wise enough to do the same… or better still, be silent. Silence was so much safer.

"You have no idea. She is only warming up and I am afraid your husband may need more than a little tender loving care by the time Gabriella is through with him. Pray you never see her upset."

It was the doctor's turn to blink, which she followed with a wide-eyed look at Gabriella who, short as she was physically, towered over the seated Operations Director. Une was slowly sinking in her chair, eyes wide and full lips slightly parted in shock.

"This is not upset?"

Treize smirked, unable to help himself. "Good heavens, no. At the present time Gabriella is mildly annoyed she has been called upon by the other seven Primes to sort out this piffling triviality. I should be strong enough in my abilities and hardened by life sufficiently, to dictate my terms to my employer and ensure all conditions of said contract are adhered to. By now, given the consideration my contract has received, I should have walked off the job and sued the Agency to within an inch of bankruptcy. Had I done so, I would have saved Gabriella the trouble of appearing for more than a social call to see the new Prime candidate."

"Mildly annoyed." Sally breathed.

She blinked, glancing between the two Primes. He could almost see the wheels turning in her mind as she chewed over his commentary. Nor was he disappointed in her when she zeroed in on his main concern.

"She is here to see Merquise?"

"Why else would she be here? I am nothing more than a convenient excuse for her to stick her arched Romany nose into the business. She will be logged on Merquise's record as a Prime with a marked interest and thereafter have an excuse to ride herd on him as she rides herd on me. I'm her naughty boy, you see. It was Gabriella who 'sorted me out', as she so quaintly calls bringing order and sanity into my life. She took my family to task over my career choices and my sexuality. I believe a number of great-uncles and aunts still leave town if they are fortunate enough to be forewarned Gabriella is to make an appearance."

Given the known history of the Kushrenada family the doctor looked at the Gypsy Prime with new respect. It was no mean feat to set a Kushrenada on their heels and to set them running deserved admiration.

"From what I have heard of him, which I admit is not a great deal, I would think him to be a little on the shy side. How is he going to stand up to her?" The doctor shook her blonde head slowly. "The reports suggest he is somewhat on the reclusive side at the University; certainly reserved. You've met him. Will he cope?"

Treize fought against the urge to giggle hysterically. How unbecoming such a reaction would be and he needed to gain greater control of himself. It was proving to be an unsettling morning and he was still a little off centre from the night before. Gabriella was not helping his equilibrium, but he would simply have to hold himself together. Hysterically laughing, or weeping, would serve only to have him committed.

"Will he cope with her? My dear Sally, I can't cope with Gabriella. I honestly don't think anyone can. You sort of…" He searched desperately for words adequate to the task of describing dealing with the woman and failed miserably. "You get used to her. Sort of. After a while. Well... You learn to survive."

Sally considered the Prime seated beside her, before looking to where the other Prime was leaning over the wide desk, her short stature requiring she stand on her toes and lean her hands on the desk to do so. She was engaged in lecturing Une on what sounded suspiciously like every clause in the contract, which periodically was waved for emphasis on some obscure point. She was frankly astonished on those occasions the Prime did not fall flat on her face on the desk, so stretched over the desk was she. For such a small woman she had incredible reach on her, Sally mused.

"You said in your initial report he struck you as being shy."

Treize inclined his head, acknowledging the report he had submitted on the case to date. "Indeed, however I believe I called him 'reserved'. I am of the opinion even your husband would come up with the same verdict."

"That does not bode well for his meeting with her. She would dominate him, for all of their size disparity."

Treize fought down a snide comment, reminding himself of his station. He should be above such common behaviour and the proximity of Gabriella reminded him he was not suicidal. She would certainly not appreciate his stifled commentary on the relationship between her physical size and her weight, weighed against her personality.

"In fairness to her, Gabriella generally knows how to approach a person to attain the best result on the initial meeting. She has an infallible instinct to know exactly how much a person can take of her… caring."

He winced and hoped the woman was not paying attention to them. He dared not look for fear of finding those all knowing dark eyes on him.

"It is my hope she will take one look at Mr. Merquise and want to mother him." He flinched at a particularly vicious rustle of the paper held less than an inch beneath Une's nose. "Mind you, Gabriella's mothering can be taken to extremes and appear far worse than what you are witnessing now."

"Gabriella is having ears in her head and no trouble with her hearing, naughty boy. You will be minding your tongue, else Gabriella will be using her Grandmother's soap and washing out your tonsils. Do you understand Gabriella?"

The dark eyes, to his abject horror, were firmly centred on him and Treize nodded vigorously, clamping his jaw closed. Heaven forbid she should have brought some of that foul concoction with her.

Sally sniggered quietly beside him and dark eyes shifted to pin her to her chair. Treize was delighted to see her smile disappear and, in his opinion, Sally could do a creditable imitation of a lemming staring down a hawk. There was something in that dark-eyed gaze that promised she did not want to be the object of Gabriella's scathing wit.

The huge office space outside Une's office was conspicuously silent in the lull within the Director's office. No murmur of voices from beyond the walls suggested the people working there had either bolted for the safety of another floor, which in his opinion would have been an immensely sensible thing to do; or they were glued to their seats, with mouths agape in silent amazement at the events taking place.

The Operations Director herself was low in her seat, widened eyes centred on the old woman still leaning over her desk. Out of sight of the witnesses to her reprimand, her hands were clenched on the base of her seat in a bid to stop herself from sliding further. Another half an inch and she was sure she would slither off the chair and vanish beneath her desk. How unbecoming that would be for one in her position and her fingers were white with the effort to maintain her seat.

The focus of the Prime had shifted to Kushrenada and Po, witnesses to the confrontation and she was not inclined to have it shift back to her. If fortune smiled Gabriella would be distracted by Sally and Kushrenada and she could take the opportunity to recover her aplomb. With the focus shifted she hoped the lecture would also be concluded. She was uncertain how much more she could take without dissolving into tears; how unforgivable that would be, or into hysterical giggling; equally as horrifying, as it held the potential to inflame the temper of the Prime to new heights.

Gabriella straightened and with great dignity glared at Treize one more time; to be certain he knew his place. He delighted her and he really was a bright boy, she reflected. His only failing in her view was his willingness to give of himself and his unique talents, to the point he endangered himself.

After her appearance at the Agency she expected those who worked with him would have more respect for his needs. He was too nice, her naughty boy and he should have taken them to task before her interference was required. One final glare to ensure both male and female were suitably cowed and Gabriella turned back to the Operations Director with a fierce glare.

Noting the woman flinch with the return of her attention, the Romany Prime was content and decided she had made her point. If there was no improvement in her protégé's working conditions in forthcoming weeks, she still had a few notes she could 'discuss' concerning his contract at a later time.

All in all, Gabriella was thoroughly enjoying her morning.

"Gabriella has decided to be magnanimous." The contract was placed on the desk with a resounding thumped and she pinned the younger woman with a glare, just in case she assumed she might be able to relax. "You should be honoured Gabriella does not demand you be demoted for this abuse. Continue to work here you will and Primes will not sue for breach of contractual obligations, per say, the health requirements for a Prime."

For added effect to drive her judgement home, the Romany Prime leaned over the desk, her entire body straining to hover over the Director in the manner of a bird of prey ready to stoop for the kill.

"Consider yourself fortunate Gabriella is in magnanimous mood, you should. Expect Gabriella to be so magnanimous if there is a next time, you should not." A final glare with bright dark eyes and the Prime straightened. "Matter rests here for now."

Turning from Une the Prime considered the pair seated on the far side of the room, both watching her warily. She was impressed by the blonde doctor, who was not cowering from her. She was pleased to sense Sally Po was radiating an aura of respect. It was gratifying to know at least one person in the building showed suitable respect for her position.

"You with big blue eyes will take me to smokeless dragon and Gabriella will scale his measly hide. It is understanding I am, you wish to breed with this dragon of small stature?"

Wide-eyed at being singled out Sally hesitated before nodding, wondering how the woman could be so intimidating. She was uncertain if she should be sitting or standing and those black eyes were glittering with wry amusement. Undoubtedly the Prime was reading her emotions like a book and Sally could only wish she was similarly gifted. It would enable her to keep certain patients in line.

"Wondering I am, if certain you are this is good idea? Offspring might be small, smokeless and have large mouth?"

Une made a wheezing noise, smothered quickly under the dark eyes and she slid a little further under the offered safety of her desk. Lips pressed firmly together the Director did her best to appear innocent and held her breath until the Prime turned back to Sally. The doctor appeared speechless, gaping at the older woman in disbelief and Treize sat with his back ramrod straight with a carefully blank face.

Gabriella motioned imperiously to the door. "Haste, haste. Gabriella has much to be doing this day. Naughty boy, you will be remaining and reminding underweight Operations Officer of obligations in contract set out in small letters. Ah, perhaps this is the problem, you are needing eyes tested?" The dark eyes settled on Une who stared back. "Needing new glasses? Whatever, get fixed."

The Prime ignored the seated woman's obvious relief when she turned away and Une inched herself up in her chair, careful not to be obvious and draw Gabriella's attention once more.

"This evening you will be taking Gabriella to the school of much money and greater egos, so I may meet with this number loving boy who needs to be cared for as only Gabriella is capable."

Treize nodded once, decisively, not inclined to attract another lecture and silently apologising to Zechs Merquise for revealing his existence to the Primes. Gabriella had admitted wanting to mother another young male and there would be no defeating her. They could be united in their mutual horror in future years, if nothing else came of their association.

He blinked, watching as Gabnriella stood there, waiting and it was precious seconds before he realized what she was waiting for. Horrified he nudged Sally, who seemed to be locked in a trance. Startled the doctor looked at him, breaking eye contact with Gabriella who smirked at him when Sally looked at him and rolled her eyes with a soft 'tsk'. Inclining his head urgently to the door he flicked his gaze at the Prime and then back to the doctor, who followed his look and jerked herself to her feet.

"Oh. Yes. Of course, this way."

Only when the indomitable Gabriella had hustled Sally out of the office and the door had closed behind them, did he dare to relax. A strangled sound from the desk drew his attention to find Une, her hands firmly pressed to her mouth, muffled noises escaping her. He was uncertain if it was sobs or laughter and he looked to the office door in horror, expecting Gabriella to reappear.

His attempt to caution her was silenced by a familiar voice from the outer office area.

"Hussy be returning your chest to its natural configuration; and be using tissues for dripping nose, not false bosoms. Flash this falseness at my naughty boy again and Gabriella will bare you to the scrutiny of all, that they may see what pimples adorn your chest."

Trieze stared at the door, sapphire eyes wide and jaw dropped in disbelief and looked in panic at Une, who was making the most alarming noises behind her hands. He knew only too well there was nothing wrong with Gabriella's hearing and he could well imagine the horror that would break over their heads if Une was heard to be laughing.

"For Gods sake, Une, have you no sense of self-preservation? Don't let her hear you!" He hissed the warning, waving at her ineffectually to be silent. "It would be more than your life is worth if she hears you laughing."

Her brown eyes danced with mischief, as she took delight in his obvious panic. After her dressing down by the Prime it was good to see someone else afraid of the woman. It was unfortunate the harder she tried to control herself, the harder it was to stop. The Agency Prime shooting panicked glances at the door only added to her loss of composure.

"Will you shut up!" Treize hissed at her. "Do you want her coming through that door and this time in a real temper? I assure you, you have seen nothing yet."

Treize, she supposed, had already suffered his lecture from the Prime and she could not blame him for fearing to draw the woman's ire. He still had most of the day ahead of him in Gabriella's company. With a superior effort she stifled her amusement and regained sufficient control of herself to have the Agency Prime relaxing again.

"Is she always like that?"

"Frequently." He sighed. "She has a heart of gold, the mouth of a fish wife and a right hook you don't wish to be on the wrong side of."

One delicate eyebrow arched and she wondered when Treize had had occasion to witness, or be on the receiving end, of that right hook. If there was one thing Une was sure of, it was that keeping company with the woman would never be boring. Frightening, certainly, entertaining, undoubtedly, but boring, no. She suspected you might never know exactly where you stood with Gabriella.

"I never suspected you kept such entertaining company, Mr Kushrenada." she murmured, demure in appearance, though her brown eyes twinkled with suppressed amusement. "Tell me, are the other Primes in your field as entertaining as Gabriella and as… unique?"

Rising gracefully to his feet Treize picked up his chair and moved it close to the desk, settling himself once more. The smile that had melted many a young noblewoman's heart flashed into existence, like a lighthouse on a dark night.

"Some of them are worse." He smirked.

Une rolled her eyes, wondering if he was exaggerating and deciding she really did not want to know. She had been told Prime rated empaths and telepaths could be a little 'odd' and that the rarer few graced with Prime level, or near Prime status with combined talents, could be considered exceedingly strange. Eccentric, she had been told, did not begin to describe some of them. She had thought those evaluations exaggerated, after all, the Agency Prime was sane enough.

"After meeting Gabriella I would suggest you not leave her alone with… how did she term him?" Une pursed her lips. "The number. How did she come up with calling him… Oh wait, Zechs. Yes, of course. Six."

Treize sighed. "Exactly and I am hoping that is only an interim designation. Gabriella is inclined to evaluate a person and there after identify you with a potentially insulting, and almost always embarrassing, nickname. I'm afraid I must inform you of the possibility you may be stuck with a title as ignominious as Skinny Employer Lady."

Lady Une sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "At least I'm not to be designated as a Smokeless Dragon."

Treize could not refrain from grinning, thinking of his partner's flaming embarrassment, should Gabriella saddle him with such a title for the duration of their working relationship. Chang Wu Fei would be furious, but Treize had never known anyone to stand up against the Romany Prime over something as piffling as a nickname.

"I feel exhausted after that and it is not even midday. Since you know her reasonably well, how long do you estimate she will subject Chang to her unique brand of punishment?"

"As long as she sees fit." Treize shuddered delicately. "I suggest you refrain from interfering and just allow her to wind down. I have seen her take half the morning to tell one of the Primes what she thought of him and his 'loose habits'. Interference tends to make her even more eloquent. This is nothing compared to the trouble she took to review the family history of great-aunt Richenda, when she had the audacity to protest I would not be studying under great-uncle Bartholomew the genteel arts of the politically aware. Great-aunt Richenda made the unfortunate decision of protesting to Gabriella personally."

Une's lower lip twitched, before slowly curving into a smile. "Richenda Catalonia?"

"The one and only." Treize confirmed with a soft snicker. "Could the world survive two of her?"

"Oh, I wish I could have witnessed that. I have had the misfortune of being on the receiving end of Dame Catalonia's temper and sarcasm. The woman, I swear, is evil incarnate."

"Yes, she is rather a frightening old harridan, but she was cowed by Gabriella in all of five minutes flat. After I recovered my senses from witnessing the confrontation, Gabriella informed me, with considerable pride, it is the Romany Blood that gives her the edge."

Une sighed. "I do wish I had been present, it would have been memorable." Taking a deep breath Une inclined her head to the Prime. "I think, before we go any further with this case, I need to apologise. For the past."

Treize met brown eyes and after a moment shook his head slightly. He was willing to let the past lie, and if Une was ready to take that step, he would not make it difficult for her.

"It's not necessary. I believe Gabriella has the right of it. We are all in need of a good shake up. We should not permit the past to affect our working relationship."

Une inclined her head, understanding. "True, but I feel I needed to apologize, regardless. I know it was a long time ago and it is done, but… I'm sorry. Can we not start afresh, as though there is no past history between us?"

"It would be my pleasure to start over."

00000000000000000000000000000000

Chang Wu Fei entered the Chief of Operations office with all the dignity of a dog cringing from the scolding of an irate master. Beneath the eyes of those attending the briefing, he slid into the one vacant chair before Une's desk and, without comment, dropped his head onto the desk.

His shuddering breath was sufficient to say a thousand words.

He did not care who was present at the briefing, or what they thought of his appearance. His only concern was the horrendous woman was not in the room. With Gabriella occupied somewhere else, anywhere was good, his much abused ears and severely beaten ego, might have a chance to recover.

"I trust Prime Gabriella has been suitably distracted for the moment?" Une murmured, shuffling the reports spread out before her. "I trust we may begin the briefing without fear of disruption?"

Sally, looking worn but oddly amused, closed the door behind her and walked around the desk, motioning Treize to remain seated as she chose to perch herself on the edge of the desk. His manners were impeccable and she knew he was affronted she chose to sit where she did. She had an ulterior motive, of course. From her position she could keep a watch out for Gabriella's return and she would have a greater chance of making a hasty getaway.

"Prime Gabriella is currently enjoying a tour of the facilities available to the Agency's investigators. From the last report she has thus far cowered the first two floors and was making inroads on the second. Word has been received she will conclude her tour in the Medical Center, where I am to have her naughty boy awaiting her, or she will come looking for us."

Treize sighed at the 'naughty boy' but remained mute. As if he would dare to be anywhere other than where Gabriella expected to find him.

"Heaven and my Ancestors forbid." Chang whispered. "I never wish to cross her path again."

"Then I seriously advise you to keep your big mouth shut and you should be safe." Sally tartly commented, with all of the immunity of the man's partner in life granting her safety from reprisal.

Not that Wu Fei looked in any condition to take her to task.

Chang's head lifted from the desk, dark hair falling over his face and his onyx eyes sought, and held, the sapphire gaze of his working partner.

"I apologise. From the bottom of my heart and on my Ancestors honour, I offer my sincere apologies. I overstepped the marks of good manners and have brought shame upon my clan and myself."

Treize resisted the urge to sigh and curse Gabriella. The woman knew what she was doing, of that he had no doubt. She would have gauged exactly her effect on Wu Fei and the depth of the apology she determined fitted the crime.

"It's alright Wu Fei. I'm just sorry Gabriella arrived today. I had hoped to deal with the matter myself. Discretely. Apology accepted."

"I'm not sorry she turned up." Sally murmured, unrepentant and flashed a sunny smile at her husband. "I've told you often enough to watch your mouth, it would get you in trouble."

"Save me, she thinks the demon is wonderful." Chang dropped his head to the desk again with a decided thud. "I shall have no peace within my own home."

"It's my home too and it's about time you remembered it." was the tart rejoinder and Sally glanced at Une. "Gabriella meant one hour, by the way, so we need to begin. I'll not have her tongue aimed at me considering the damage it can do, and I'm sure Treize has no desire to be the recipient of another lecture."

Heero grunted softly from his seat on the far side of Treize. He had heard enough about the formidable Prime to know he personally could do without earning her notice. He was not about to admit there were warnings circulating about the ESUN Security Centre the Prime had arrived in the city. She was due to visit the Centre the next day and he wondered if it had anything to do with the shake-up she was causing at the Agency.

He had never had the dubious pleasure of making the woman's acquaintance and, given the reaction of these people, he wished to keep it that way. He had spoken to a number of colleagues, who had had the misfortune to meet the woman under less than desirable circumstances. She appeared to have immunity from any repercussions the liberal use of her tongue unleashed on the world at large. He was planning to be absent from the Centre during her visit, to be assured he did not draw her eye.

Une shuffled her papers one more time, casting an eye around the small group assembled. Heero, Sally, the Prime and Chang comprised the group she had assigned to this case. This was a chance for them to evaluate the current data and postulate on their next move. They were all aware the case was not as straightforward as the Agency had been led to believe, from the ESUN's Security Services initial report. Drawing a deep breath she inclined her head to Heero.

"If you would begin, Mr. Yuy."

Heero straightened in his chair and placed a folder on the desk in front of him, though he did not open it. "The autopsy report on the victim gives the cause of death as heart failure. The heart showed massive bruising, which the pathologist suggested might be caused by a constricting field stopping the heart from pumping. The post-mortem revealed he was in remarkably good physical condition and there is sufficient evidence to suggest exposure to abusive psychokinetic potential elsewhere on his body. The pathologist in charge of the post-mortem determined kinetic energy is the most likely reason for the cause of death."

Chang nodded slightly. "I assumed his heart would have been constricted. Quick and clean, leaving no blood or traces, until a post-mortem examination reveals it."

Heero inclined his head slightly before continuing. Chang was the kinetic of the group and would know exactly what kind of force had been used to snuff out the life of the man.

"In light of the evidence of the cause of death and the massive damage done to the skeleton of the victim to fit the man into the refrigerator, the death is now officially listed as murder, by an unknown individual with a high psychokinetic potential."

"All of which we suspected." Chang sighed, sitting erect in his seat, back ramrod straight.

He was affronted any kinetic would use their gift for murder. It was dishonourable to use kinetics against those not likewise gifted, who had no defense against the invisible tendrils of a thought. You would not see that thought invading your body, nor would you feel anything until invisible fingers closed around your heart and squeezed, killing in a few agonizing seconds.

"Suspicions are one thing. At least now we have confirmation we are dealing with a kinetic of considerable talent." Treize offered. "A kinetic talent causing a death is something we can not take lightly. Given the means of the kill and the damage done to the suite, I think there is little doubt what we are dealing with. This is not just a kinetic going off the deep end, intentionally or accidentally causing a death. This killer is not merely a kinetic, but a psi with burgeoning multiple talents. An emergent super psi, if you will. It is my belief the perpetrator will only get stronger and more unstable with time. We need to find and stop him, as quickly as possible."

Sally, the Medical Officer amongst them, nodded gravely. "Agreed. A berserk high level psychic on a killing rampage is not something I want to contemplate and if he has killed once, he would have little compunction about killing again."

"Are you certain our perpetrator is male?" Une queried, leafing through the report folder on her desk.

"I feel I can say beyond a doubt the psychic impression I sensed belonged to a male. I would venture to narrow the field down to a young male, perhaps no older than nineteen, considering the development of psychic potential. He may be as young as fourteen or fifteen, but I believe him to be older than that. It will be necessary for me to sense the room once more and I will also require another, more formal interview, with Catherine Bloom. The young woman knows far more than she herself knows and quite frankly, I am surprised she is alive. The victim was killed quickly and neatly, but Catherine Bloom survived her encounter with an intruder in that suite, with nothing more to show for it than a modified memory. An extremely well executed memory modification, given the ad hoc nature of the process required in a limited time frame. Not only did he modify her memory, but he penetrated a high level Psi shielding device, designed specifically to protect her against such intrusion. That kind of work, that type of intricacy, takes power, but it also takes finesse not to leave her a vegetable"

Sally stirred, glancing at Une. "It would have been very easy to injure her brain, to leave her in a vegetive state. Memory modification is usually performed under controlled conditions and never with an active mind shield in effect."

Une drew out a piece of blank paper and scribble some hasty notes, considering the short list for a moment, before she straightened and looked at Treize.

"You believe the killer to be a stalker enamoured of one of the three young males occupying the suite?"

Treize inclined his head slightly. "I do."

"You believe his infatuation may lie, not with the Winner heir, but with one or the other of the other two. You think this because?"

"His target may be Quatre Winner, but we can not discount the other two young men. They are all good looking, each is brilliant in their own way and they all, it appears, are interested in men as sexual partners. The stalker may be aware of this orientation."

"So the question is, has the killer a desire for sexual relations with one of them, or is he one of the really sick ones to get his jollies by killing the object of his infatuation, so that no other may soil his perfection." Sally murmured.

Treize inclined his head to her, unfazed by her comment. "It may come to that. Whether he will turn on his target if he feels his advances are spurned remains to be seen, but it is my hope we shall have him identified and dealt with, before it comes to that."

"You further believe the perpetrator to be an emergent psi. A high level of telepathy, to explain his ability to effect this memory modification you say you found in Catherine Bloom. Given what you sensed, how highly would you place this telepathic ability in comparison to a Prime Telepath's capabilities? I need an evaluation on his kinetic potential as well, in relation to the capabilities of a Prime Kinetic."

"Given the damage done to the suite, I would estimate his abilities in excess of my own, when measured in raw strength." Wu Fei frowned at his hands. "There was a great deal of kinetic strength used in demolishing the rooms, but there may have been more strength than skill. I doubt this individual has much in the way of finesse about him. We may need a Prime Kinetic to bring him down, if such action is required."

"Treize?" Une looked to her Prime.

"I concur with Wu Fei's estimation of his kinetic potential. It may take one or two Primes, or a Prime backed by a couple of higher level Kinetics, to bring him under control. Kinetic strength is not my forte. I am of no use to you there, but I would hope it would not be necessary for such a showdown to take place."

He met the eyes of his Operations Director and inclined his head a little, indicating the wide window behind her desk.

"Such a battle of strengths has the potential to be damaging to property and people. In this instance, it has the potential to cause massive disruption, in that there are other Psi abilities involved. The memory modification needs more investigation, but is suggestive of near Prime levels and I suspect there is little in the way of training behind his skills. He may have access to a library, where he could read summaries and theories, on the practical application of Psi gifts, but that is no substitute for professional tuition."

"Well, Tsuberov has enough libraries for it to be fairly easy for him to read up on the subject." Une murmured.

"We can hope he is limited to kinetic and telepathic abilities. The more abilities he opens, the thinner his sanity will be, as he tries to cope with his own potential. Without knowing more of the target himself, I can not venture an accurate assessment of his telepathic potential. I am hoping he does not develop a strong empathic link to partner his telepathic potential. We will need to locate him with all speed, as he is a danger to everyone in his immediate vicinity, not merely to himself. If he becomes frustrated with his fascination with one of the three men, he will be walking a thin line. Anything could be sufficient to set him off and then there may be no choice in what we do with him."

"If you don't mind my asking for greater detail, what is it that gives you cause to think the stalker is not after Winner?" Heero queried.

Treize met Heero's gaze and inclined his head slightly, considering the other man. "He may well be targeting Winner. I am not suggesting he is not, but following my interview with Trowa Barton, whom I know reasonably well and who knows each of the three men involved, I believe we would be making an unforgivable assumption to consider only Winner as the target. Trowa had more than one point to make on the three. Perhaps the biggest danger is in the stalker's frustration to approach the one he desires. These three young men give me the impression of having formed unique bonds. They are a unit, almost linked at the hip. Given the diversity of their backgrounds one would not expect there to be a close association between them and their ages are not exactly the same. They have formed a link, a bond if you will, which is not mere friendship. This link surpasses their individual backgrounds and ages and the stalker would find that a threat."

Yuy had been listening closely and was nodding, willing to accept the Prime's assessment was accurate and he had made a valid point. Sally was making notes, as was Une, both women seemingly undisturbed by his assessment.

"I will agree Quatre Winner has the highest profile of the three, but I think we have to give the other two their due. Winner is not the only one with looks, or with talent enough to draw attention."

"Point." Sally conceded Treize's point. "Both Maxwell and Merquise are more than good looking, and both of them have outstanding abilities."

"Maxwell has a pet project, which has the potential to have repercussions across the entire ESUN. If he carries this project through to completion he stands to be a very wealthy man." Wu Fei straightened his spine, looking more like his usual self, though the strain of his meeting with Gabriella was visible in the tension about his eyes. "His telekinetic abilities suggest he will likely attain a level nine ranking, perhaps even advance sufficiently to attain the Prime ranking. It is undecided at this time, but he has the potential."

"There is no chance he might somehow be involved in the damage done to the suite? He is a high level telekinetic." Sally murmured, reading through her notes.

"He was off planet when our John Doe was killed." Une reminded her.

"Ah, yes. Sorry. However, it has been known for kinetics on a subconscious level to unleash their potential in times of stress. Is it not possible he might have perpetrated the damages done to the suite while asleep? I would think they would have been exhausted and stressed, after their sojourn in the Colonies."

"Perhaps he is the target of the stalker?" Heero mused. "The killer might be called, attracted, to a talent similar to his own."

"Maxwell is clever and has an invention that could make him wealthy enough to rival Winner." Une mused. "He is a talented psychic and good looking. Yes, there is a lot there that might attract attention."

"It was not the flavour of Duo Maxwell I detected in the suite and yes, I have been close enough to Maxwell to gain a reading on him." Treize informed them. "While he may be the target of the stalker, he is not the perpetrator of the damage to the suite."

"Well, then, to Merquise. He certainly is no slouch in the looks department and we all know he is going to make Prime ranking, not only in Telepathy, but in Empathy as well. A rare dual talent Prime." Sally consulted her notes. "No listing for a kinetic ability, so I guess that rules him out as having anything to do with the damage to the suite. He is more likely to be the victim than the perpetrator. Academically he's not brilliant, but he's certainly not dumb either."

"Actually, given his past and his level of education, he has done well to attain the scores he has achieved at Tsuberov." Treize murmured. "It was a large step to come from almost street kid and orphanage to being placed at so prestigious an institution."

"Point." Sally murmured. "His I.Q. test certainly suggested he should have had better scores."

"Facts and figures are one dimensional." Treize murmured.

"They are a guideline, nothing more. If a person does not choose to apply himself, then he will not do well, despite his potential." Une murmured. "I heard that lecture often enough from my grandfather when I was young."

"Quite. Treize agreed. "Heero, just what evidence did your agents find in their investigation, to clearly define the target as being Quatre Winner?"

Heero scowled, not looking at ease before he straightened his spine. "I have gone over the original investigation reports in light of the suggestion made. Those preliminary investigations, as far as I can see, do not give sufficiently clear evidence for my liking to designate Winner as the target. A response team was sent in at the request of the Tsuberov Institute to investigate the incident. I was not assigned to the investigation until the morning you were brought in and my briefing stated Winner had been determined to be at threat. From what I have read, I would venture to guess it was the University investigation team which determined the target to be Winner."

"Damn." Une settled back in her seat, running her gaze over her notes and tapping the pen absently against her teeth. "That opens up the field a little and I don't like it one bit. There is no clear evidence the target is Winner. One confirmed Prime class psychic, the heir to the Winner fortune who is also, I believe, a potential Prime empath and a Sweeper prodigy, who might be Prime material as a kinetic. Each of them special enough, in a variety of ways, to draw attention."

"Trowa knows them all and understood it immediately." Treize murmured. "He may have been hoping I would assure him it might not be Quatre who was in danger, since he has a personal interest in Winner. I think he is friendly enough with the other two, to be concerned they might be the target."

"This Trowa Barton." Sally met the Primes gaze. "Your report says he agreed to you placing a limitation trigger within his mind, to stop him from accidentally letting the investigation slip. How well do you know him that he would agree so readily to such an action being taken?"

"I placed a 'suggestion' and false memories to cover our time together, after his willing consent was given. Should he be probed there will be memories found to explain our time together. He is cousin to my daughter, so we discussed family matters."

"Merquise and Winner both have the potential to scan him." Chang mused. "It was a sound move, to maintain the low profile the University requested for this case. I do not see how they will maintain secrecy given the manner in which this case is growing."

"I was thinking more along the lines of a chance probe by the stalker, actually." Treize murmured. "Both Winner and Merquise have been trained not to casually probe another person. The perpetrator, however, is another matter entirely."

He did not mention and none of the team saw fit to comment, on the likelihood of young telepaths experimenting on their own. It had been done before and none of them were naïve enough to think it did not occur at Tsuberov.

"You say Barton is a Medium?" Une leaned forward in her chair and met her Primes gaze. "He claims to have actually seen the body in the empty fridge."

"Yes." Wu Fei offered the confirmation, his eyes drifting to the door, as though he was afraid it might open at any second and his tormentor might be standing there. "From his reaction I would say his claim is legitimate."

"Trowa was not initially tagged as a Medium; however preliminary results from the tests I arranged should prove the ability is viable. Besides, I saw through his 'eyes' the body."

"Then that is an avenue we need to pursue. The refrigerator cannot be returned to the University until that deceased's spirit is released." Une mused. "It would scare the bejesus out of a young Medium talent, if it chanced to be placed in their rooms. We could use whatever information the victim himself could give us to assist in hunting down his killer. If the spirit is still there and has not moved on then, knowing something about this field, I would venture to guess he has unfinished business holding him. That business, given the nature of his death, may give us some insight as to why he was in the suite."

"Who do you have in mind to perform the reading?" Sally queried, glancing up from her notes.

Une pressed her palms together; fingers interlocked and considered the situation for a long moment, before she looked up at her team.

"Considering Quatre Winner's involvement and now the interest of the Prime's in your field in Mr. Merquise, Treize, I think it would pay for us to call in the best."

"Noin?" Sally queried, quirking an eyebrow. "Isn't she on loan to a murder enquiry now?"

"Yes, Noin." Une straightened in her seat. "The Agency loaned her services to the American Federal Investigation Bureau. From memory she was assisting the New York Police Department interviewing a serial killer's victims, in a bid to identify the perpetrator. I don't know exactly what progress has been made, if any, or how near they are to resolving the case, but I will endeavour to garner her services for a few days, a week at most. When the meeting concludes I will make a few calls. If Noin is unavailable we may need to request assistance from another of the Prime level Mediums. I think Emeries might be in Europe and he has assisted us before, when we were caught short-handed. He would be closer than Noin, if he is available, but I would prefer our own Prime agent if at all possible."

Treize settled back in his seat, feeling immeasurably better. They were making progress and his teammates were seriously considering the idea the Winner heir might not be the victim here. His meeting with Trowa had borne fruit and he was not about to look a gift horse in the mouth, though he could kick himself for not having questioned the details in the initial briefing. Until he could be certain of the exact level of risk all three were subject to, he wanted all of them protected.

"I will place a call to the University Security Office, notifying them to increase security on all three students. I want them watched until we know who is stalking the grounds." Une glanced at the clock on her desk and looked up, meeting her Prime's gaze with a sweet smile that immediately raised his hackles. "How long does it take you to get down to the Medical Centre?"

Sally straightened with a jerk and made shooing gestures at the Prime. "Come on. I plan on being there waiting for her to arrive. There is no way I am going to be the recipient of a lecture from Gabriella because you were tardy."

Chang observed his wife with amused dark eyes as she hustled the smirking Prime out of the office. "Smart woman."

"Indeed, Smokeless Dragon of Little Size." Une murmured.

Yuy smirked at the glare Chang subjected his superior to. Une merely looked back, amused, knowing they belonged to a unique club, the 'we have survived Gabriella' club.

"How long do you estimate it will take for Noin to arrive, if she is free?" Yuy queried.

"If she is free, I could get her on a sub orbital shuttle and it would take only a matter of three or four hours for her to arrive. If, of course, being the important word there." Une flipped closed one of the folders spread before her. "I shall endeavour to have her in the city within a day. Well, gentlemen, we have work to do. I want you both back at the University; go back over the suite and the grounds as many times as you need to, but find me something we can use. Interview the students who were staying in the adjacent suites again. Someone must have heard something, or seen something, that we can use. Find it."

t.b.c.

Karina Robertson 2007

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Authors Notes:

Treize Kushrenada : Level 10 Sending/Receiving Telepath + Receiving and Projecting Empath at Level 10. Prime rated. Agency Operative contracted term of 5 years with 2 years remaining. 25yrs of age Training facility: Psychic Institute Munich Division.

Heero Yuy: ESUN Security Agency Elite Operative. Government sanctioned Genetic enhancements performed by Romefeller Genetic Laboratory, Tokyo for adult service as Security Enhanced Operative. No Psychic Talent. Genetic induced enhancements include enhanced Strength, Hearing, Speed and Olfactory senses. Assigned regularly to liaison with The Agency's psychic agents. 21 / 22 years old

Chang Wu Fei: Level 9 Telekinetic + Receiving Telepath Level 5. Agency Operative contracted term of 10 years with 8 years remaining, 22yrs of age Training facility:Psychic Institute Luxemburg Division.

Sally Po Chang: Level 4 Receiving Empath with linked Healers Ability graded Level 6 Agency Operative-Chief Medical Officer contracted term of 10 years with 6 years remaining. Training facility: Psychic Institute Beijing Division. 23 yrs old

Commander Anne Une: Level 8 Telekinetic. Operations Commander of The Agency. Contracted term of 10 years with 7 years remaining. Luxemburg Division. 22 yrs old.

Gabriella : Romany descent. Level 10 Sending / Receiving Telepath + Level 10 Receiving and Projecting Empath. Prime Rated. Training facility rumored to be the old Government Laboratories of the Prussian Republic which was deposed in the year AC 45. Age: Unknown rumored to be approximately seventy four. Oldest of the Prime Telepathic Empaths.


	20. Chapter 20

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 20/

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 20/??

Author: Karina

Many thanks to Dulin for her work as beta on this chapter.

/…/ Thoughts

/.../ Telepathy

… Empathic Impression translated from emotion into symbolic words.

_Italics_ Flashback / Memory

Chapter Twenty

He liked the grounds of Tsuberov. In the precincts of the parklands surrounding the University Duo found a sense of wellbeing and contentment. He found he even missed the dormitory suites, and the all too often crowded hallways. He found the hotel too regimented for his liking. It felt transient, a place he would visit for a day or so, but not reside in over a longer term. It suited the people who frequented it, he supposed, the wealthy and prominently positioned members of the ESUN. Those who came and went and thought nothing of their surroundings beyond creature comforts.

Duo sought something besides material comfort.

He was certain the hotel would not suit him on a long-term basis, and was hopeful to have access to the dormitory building again in a day or two. If not for the presence of his roommates, in particularly Quatre, he was sure he would not have settled as well as he had. He was almost afraid to touch anything in the suite for fear of breaking it, but Quatre fitted right in.

He seemed to take the excessive comfort and lush décor for granted, hardly mindful of the vases of artfully arranged flowers, and the light touches of gilding on the furniture and walls, and the marble in the bathroom. He supposed it was hardly surprising, given Quatre had grown up amid such opulence. After living in the hotel's richness Duo was sure the dormitory suites at Tsuberov, while comfortable, were considered merely serviceable by the Winner's contemporaries.

He was thankful Quatre was not a snob, though the blond had assured him at one stage, not so many years ago, he had been quite a handful. Nothing had been good enough, no one who disagreed with him could be right, or have a single working brain cell in their heads.

"You would not have liked me then, Duo. I would not have liked me at all."

Zechs had seemed as uncomfortable in the suite as Duo, if not more so. Duo had noticed he avoided sitting on the extremely comfortable chairs if possible, choosing the floor at night to watch television, and he did not handle the ornaments, or touch the furniture in passing. He kept his hands close to his sides and never relaxed, even when they had convinced him to watch television with them.

Zechs simply was not comfortable with the opulence of the suite.

Duo could understand that.

/It was kind of cute the way he was embarrassed at being caught thinking of the sexy redhead. Zechsy has it bad for the Duke, I'm thinking. /

Duo was walking the parklands, taking the opportunity to gain some exercise, and being careful to keep his attention on the time. He had a class coming up, but he had decided he had the time to dally a little and enjoy the sun and gardens. A little exercise was welcome, given he was limited with his choice of amusements.

Normally if he had free time he would take the opportunity to tinker with his 'toys', but such activity was curtailed while they were staying in the hotel. He did have a small supply of project material and, he reminded himself, he needed to take a few key parts back to the hotel with him tonight. He was close to completing one of his toys, which might, with some small amount of luck, assist him in learning what was going on at Tsuberov.

The crunch of booted feet on gravel drew his attention, and without realizing it he pressed into the deep shade of a bush bordering the lawn he was crossing. From the shelter of the foliage and deep shade, he watched with growing interest, and no small amount of pleasure, as two men walked on the path paralleling his position.

/It's him. The nameless one with the very nice buns./ Duo took delight in ogling said buns, as the two men passed his hiding place.

The darker of the two was plainly Asian and the chocolate-haired, taller male showed a distinctly oriental caste to his features, though Duo doubted he was a full blood. His skin was too light in comparison to his companions and his eyes were blue, not brown or black. A brief glimpse of the intense blue eyes gave birth to a curious heat warming his blood, and he hummed softly in appreciation. He liked what he saw.

He watched them until they stepped off the path, inclining toward the accommodations block just visible through the plantings ahead of them.

/I wonder who he is? Some sort of investigator, obviously, but what is it you are investigating? What are you doing here, you with the so sexy eyes?/

He slipped from his bush to wander in the same direction, careful to look casual, careful not to draw attention. It did not look as though there were others wandering this section of the gardens, and he did not wish to draw the attention of Security.

/Seeing you again headed for the dorm only makes me more certain they are not telling us everything./

Rumours were running rife amid the student body, as it always was when something of interest happened. There were so many outlandish theories circulating. Thus far the rumours covered everything from the mundane and official burst water pipes, to the current favourite, that a student had gone into a jealous rage in the dorm. A kinetic student, he presumed, though none of the rumours he had heard identified a specific talent involved. Thankfully some of the more outlandish whispers had been discounted following saner consideration.

Boring as it was, faulty water pipes was so much more believable than dead bodies in suites, or flipped out poltergeists ripping the plumbing out of walls. He could recall no strange sounds coming from the pipes before they had departed for their tour of the colonies, but they had been gone upwards of four weeks. He supposed it was plausible the old plumbing had given up the ghost.

Burst water pipes were so dull, and severely lacked for entertainment value. It might have been fun to have been there when the pipes burst. Certainly it would have been good for a story or two, suitably embellished to up the entertainment value.

/They never allowed us into our old suite after we returned, so I don't know if the pipes were groaning under pressure or not. They said the plumbing had problems and I guess they meant it. Damn strange though, if you ask me, not that anyone does. Something does not feel right about this whole business./

He was uncertain why he followed them, but he found himself strolling across the lawn and setting foot to the path leading to the building they seemed to be heading for. From this angle he could see a number of plumbing vans in the parking area, and a number of other vehicles he seriously doubted were support units for plumbers.

No, something was definitely up at Tsuberov and he was certain it had little, if anything, to do with plumbing.

"Mr. Maxwell. Is not your next class in C block?"

Duo froze. The voice of doom. Of course, if he had to be sprung it would be Otto who found him. Why was it the man always seemed to be where Duo least wanted him to be?

/Damn./ Blue violet eyes found the tall man watching him from the shade beneath an oak tree. There was no mistaking either the voice or the body. "Hi, Otto."

"Good afternoon, Mr. Maxwell."

He might be able to bluff his way out of trouble, though he had not exactly been doing anything he should not have been. He was just out stretching his legs on a break between classes. Nothing wrong with that. So he was curious about the strangers, but he had not approached them, and it was hardly against the law to check out a tight arse when the opportunity presented itself.

"You know, sneaking up on a person can give them an early coronary."

"Sneaking, Mr. Maxwell?" The man grinned and it looked predatory to Duo. "I believe I was stationary, enjoying the shade of a tree and it was you engaged in sneaking."

/Ohh. He's in a playful mood, since he has not sent me packing already./ Duo beamed his best innocent smile. "Me? Sneaking? Nah. I don't sneak, man. Got no need to, you know? I'm a student here, so I belong. Why would I want to sneak?"

"Everyone is entitled to an off day, Mr Maxwell, especially if they determine to practise stalking skills on guests to the University. Such behaviour is hardly polite, nor does it offer a fair impression of the manners taught by this establishment. Your class, I believe, is in the opposite direction, young sir."

/Damn. He's going to be bloody-minded about this after all. He's determined to keep me from figuring out what they are keeping quiet./ Duo sighed and watched as Otto left his shady tree to join him on the path.

"You know, Otto, you can be a real stick in the mud some days."

The man's lips twitched into a small, knowing smile. "I believe that is one of the reasons why I was employed by the powers that be."

Duo's eyes sparked with amusement, even as he sidled up to the Security Chief, hands in his pockets. He might yet be able to make the best of this meeting, if fortune favoured the brave. Or was that fortune favours the foolish?

"You could be a real ball of fun if you gave yourself half a chance."

"Indeed, sir. On occasion I have been known to be the life of the party. I suggest you turn yourself around and, by raising your motor skills above a saunter; you should still make class on time. I believe one more late attendance listing will result in the Master dispatching notification to your sponsors of your tardiness. We really would not wish that, would we?"

Duo seemed to deflate and waved a hand negligently, eyes flicking to watch the two men pass out of sight around the building. It was time to beat a graceful, and in this instance strategic, retreat.

"Alright, already. I'm going. Sheesh." He scowled and lightly touched Otto's arm to draw his attention away from the building. "Come on, Otto, be straight with me, will you? What's going on? You can't deny something's happening."

A dark eyebrow arched. "Indeed, I deny nothing. There is indeed something happening out of the norm. We have faulty plumbing and as a result we have a mess to clean up. The repairs would go a great deal faster if students would keep away, and allow us to complete the cleanup."

"Cute buns ain't no Plumber." The words were out before Duo engaged his brain, but done was done, and he could not take back his outburst. He did have the grace to blush however.

Otto winced, glancing about to determine if anyone was within hearing distance. "Mr. Maxwell, I believe you are also on final notice for language? There are some students, as well as faculty members, who are not as tolerant of your occasional outbursts as I. Should one of them overhear your less than proper terminology, you would be reported and no doubt sanctioned."

Duo growled softly, knowing he was blushing. There were certain persons at Tsuberov who would delight in reporting him for any conceivable transgression. Otto was by far one of the best authority figures at the University. He had a reputation amid the students as someone you could trust, despite his being Security.

"I'll be glad to get back to a ship, so I can talk without anyone telling me off for opening my mouth." Determining he might as well make the best use of the situation he ploughed ahead. "Do they honestly think everyone in the world goes around talking as though they have a dictionary stuck up their arse?"

"Mr. Maxwell!" Otto ground out between clenched teeth. "Get out of my sight, before I report you."

Duo shrugged his broadening shoulders, knowing he was pushing the boundaries, but he wanted Otto to be glad to see the back of him. He did not want the man taking the time to wonder about his presence here, or the fact Duo had touched his arm. He felt he had a real chance of carrying this off successfully, and the prospect of finally gaining some information was worth ticking off the Security Chief. He would be extra careful not to aggravate the man over the coming week.

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry. I just… I'm a little fed up with toffee-nosed bastards like Muller."

"It would be better for you to stay away from Mr. Muller and his associates. I will not report you on this occasion, but do not allow me to hear you repeat the offence. At least for the next few days. For the moment, a little care in what you say and do is not so great a thing to exercise, now is it? Have a good day, sir."

Duo was careful enough to nod and be seen to head toward block C with a long stride, not exactly hurrying, which would have been notably suspicious, but not dawdling either. He needed to gain a reasonable distance from Otto before, from a secured shelter he activated the microphone he had planted on the Security Chief.

He would be in a heap of trouble, possibly even expelled, should the bug be located and someone managed to trace it back to him. He felt he was covered, there were other students at the University with the know-how to make such a device. Unless, of course, Otto discovered it in the next few minutes, in which case he was boned.

He had made certain, when he had been crafting this particular toy, that there was no single component of the device anyone could say only he used. The small microphone was going to give him the inside story, or so he hoped, so he could sort out this business of plumbing problems and get to the teeth of the story.

Of course if Otto was particularly cheesed off and wanted to find the identity of the person who had bugged him, the man was more than capable of tracking him down. In which case he would be leaving Tsuberov quickly and quietly, and have the unenviable task of explaining to Howard what moment of insanity had possessed him.

That was not something he wanted to face. However, done was done and he could not exactly hightail it back to the Security Chief and retrieve the microphone.

Careful not to look back for fear Otto would be watching, he continued on the path until he rounded a bend. Here there was a convenient bush to duck around, without seeming to be involved in anything suspicious. It was a short cut used by students when heading towards blocks C and D. Otto would expect him to take the short cut, and hopefully would stop watching him once he took it.

Congratulating himself on his success, he sped to the nearest building and chortled over managing to plant the bug successfully on Otto himself. He had hoped a situation might arise where he might access one of the workers with access to the dormitory, or at least the Security Office. That he had managed to plant it on Otto was cause to crow, not that he could. He did not want anyone knowing he was capable of manufacturing such interesting, and contraband, toys.

/Great. I'll be able to finally learn something interesting./

Glancing at his watch he decided he could spare five minutes to fine tune the device, and during class he would be able to listen in on whatever conversations Otto might engage in. He would be honourable, of course, and stop listening in if the conversation had nothing to do with the dormitory block, though he would need to make sure before he stopped listening. If this particular class went as it usually did, he would have no trouble keeping up with the professor.

Pressing an earpiece into his ear, he pushed himself into a convenient bush and concentrated, hearing the crunch of gravel as his unknowing spy walked a path. Just a little bit of tweaking to clear the signal and he would have a few interesting titbits of information to share with his dorm mates, when next he saw them.

"Ah. I thought so." Otto's voice came through the earpiece clearly.

"Yes." Duo whispered. "Got you."

"Are we listening, Mr. Maxwell?"

Duo froze, eyes going wide with horror. /Oh shit./

"Of course we are. Nice try, Duo, but if I catch you planting bugs on anyone again, I'll have you up before the Board of Governors so fast you will break the sound barrier. No amount of backing by the Sweepers will save your sorry butt from expulsion." Otto's voice came over the tiny speaker with a strong flavour of amusement.

Duo yelped at the squeal of the device as it was crushed, and he almost fell out of his bush. Looking around, resembling for all the world a flushed rabbit, he was relieved to see Otto standing a healthy distance from his present position. The man was grinning, not scowling, for which he was thankful. If Otto was grinning then Duo Maxwell was not about to practise supersonic speeds on his way out of the University.

He had thought he would get away with it, but his mistake had undoubtedly been being opportunistic with Otto. The man had sussed him out on more than one escapade and. as such, they had something of an understanding. Duo knew when not to push, and he knew he had reached the limit of Otto's tolerance for the day.

It was time to admit defeat and make a graceful exit. At least for now.

With his heart in his mouth, in case the man changed his mind about not having him expelled, at the very least sanctioned, Duo offered a jaunty salute, spun on his heel and hastened his step to class. For a little while he would be careful to toe the line with his classes. Otto would check on his attendance record for the day, and probably for the next week or so, but that was okay. The man was a good sport, and it was to be expected in their little private game of catch me if you can.

He had pushed his luck as far as he could today and he did not need to dream up an excuse to placate Howard over why he had been expelled.

/I'll win though. I have another idea on how to get some inside info on what is going down. I can test out my latest toy tonight, at the hotel. Just a few parts I need to finish it. If it passes the test I'll see about placing it where it will do the most good tomorrow./

000000000000000000000000000

Heero considered the wreckage in thoughtful silence.

He honestly did not understand the workings of a psychic's mind. To him the room was a mess, water damage having removed much of the clues a forensic unit might find. The forensic team that had been called in was one of the best, and would work diligently to glean what information they could from the debris. It would take at best days, at worst weeks, to gather all the information from every piece taken to the laboratories the day before.

This was the timetable of old science. Science had to be adhered to, as it was valuable to an investigation, and vital to the conviction of the perpetrators in a modern day court of law. Unlike his predecessors of three generations ago, the investigation could move along more quickly with the sanctioned assistance of certified Psychic Investigators, employed by law enforcement agencies across the ESUN.

On his initial entry to the suite, Treize Kushrenada had given them more information than the initial interviews had gathered. The Prime had gathered data before he had even met Catherine Bloom, data which would prove to be invaluable in detaining the responsible party for the destruction of the suite and, more importantly in his view, the murder. Between Kushrenada and Chang, in the space of an hour, they knew more than the standard investigation team had determined in a full day, and the psychics were still gleaning information.

When the door to the suite opened, he glanced up from toeing absently as a soggy pile of plaster, to watch Otto, chuckling softly, enter. The Security Chief nodded amicably in greeting before shaking his head at the damage and taking on a more serious appearance.

"Will I be able to get the clean up crew in here today?"

"I doubt it. Mr. Kushrenada has determined he needs to sense the suite one more time."

It would take days to make sense of this mess, and to restore the suite to some semblance of acceptable living conditions. The crews were concentrating their efforts on the suites below this one, which had been affected by water damage, but that work must be near done. The suites on either side of this one also required attention, but thus far, except for having the water turned off, not even plumbers had been permitted on the upper floor.

Otto sighed softly and nodded. "I understand he has requested another interview with Catherine Bloom."

"Yes." Wu Fei emerged from what had been Duo Maxwell's bedroom. "There is more he can learn from her, and he may require several more interviews to get through the layers of false memory and blocks he has detected. What response have you made to the caution sent to the University from the Agency?"

Otto looked more than a little disturbed at mention of false memories and mind blocks, but mention of the caution drew a frown and a curious look, first at Heero and then the Agency representative.

"Excuse me? Caution? I received a message from Reception this morning, stating Mr. Kushrenada wished a return interview with Ms Bloom, and a copy of class schedules for Maxwell, Winner and Merquise. No one has mentioned anything about a caution."

"I see." Wu Fei scowled, exchanging looks with Heero. "I shall require a word with the Headmaster then, considering the necessity of passing on messages accurately."

"I think it would be best if I was contacted directly from your office." Otto's good mood had vanished like smoke on the wind. "What has happened that a caution has been issued?"

"Following a reassessment of the preliminary reports, and interviews with initial investigators of the call out, it has been determined there in no firm indication Quatre Winner is the intended target of the stalker. It is possible Winner may have been the target for a kidnapping, but the stalker may be after one of the other two men." Heero informed him.

"After due investigation of the preliminary reports forwarded to the Agency and, in light of the Primes' raised concerns, we feel the question of who is at risk cannot, as yet, be adequately determined. We need more data before we can be assured who is at risk and who is not." Chang picked up a bent piece of metal, weighed it in his hand and sighed. "This person obviously has anger issues."

"Anger issues, he calls it." Otto snorted.

Chang waved a hand to indicate the room around them. "There are a number of possibilities, including the scenario Winner may have been, and perhaps remains, the target for a kidnapping. The stalker interrupted something, perhaps an initial set up?"

At Otto's widening eyes Heero shrugged. "It cannot be discounted at this time, therefore it must be factored into the investigation."

Chang nodded, indicating his agreement. "We are unable to identify the victim, which is causing us some concern. Given the information sources and networks at our disposal, we should have been able to place a name to his face within hours of the discovery of the body."

"It takes a certain rare expertise to erase a person's identity in this day and age, but it is looking like someone has managed the feat. Fingerprints, the foot prints register and DNA testing has produced no result as yet. As it is possible any of the three students may be under threat from the stalker, we suggest security on the three to be upgraded." Heero motioned to the wreckage of the suite. "There is the uncomfortable suggestion the person who did this, may be an emergent super psi on the verge of insanity."

Otto dropped his head and pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger, looking pained. "Wonderful."

"If at all possible we wish to take this man into custody before it is too late to help him."

Otto glanced at Chang and sighed, looking about the room with a shake of his head. The thought behind the glance was clear enough, but the Security Chief waved a hand at the destruction surrounding them and voiced his concerns regardless. It was a concern both Chang and Yuy shared.

"You do not think this demonstrates the stalker, whoever he may prove to be, is not already out of control?" Otto sighed rubbing a hand through his short curly hair. "Have you considered the potential for disaster your scenario could lead to? An emergent, insane, psi of high potential, loose in a place like Tsuberov…" He shivered delicately with reaction. "He could overload any number of empaths or telepaths resident here, especially those at the lower end of the spectrum. The first-year students who are having difficulty learning to shield would not stand a chance."

Chang glanced around at the destruction surrounding them. Water still dripped from the ceiling and debris, pooling in puddles amid the detritus. Though the water had been turned off the day before, the ceiling had been soaked by the ripped pipes spraying the room, and it would take time for the sodden plaster and wood to dry out. Every now and then there would be a soggy splat, as plaster fell away from the walls or ceiling.

The cleanup crews would quickly be followed by builders to strip the walls and check on the structural integrity of the building. It would not surprise Chang if the repair bill gave the Board of Directors apoplexy.

"We are well aware of the danger." Wu Fei informed the taller man. "It is all the more reason to locate and detain the stalker, before he reaches critical point, and loses all control."

"With the information currently available, we cannot give a clear indication of which of the three students is the focus for his growing obsession." Heero picked his way to the window carefully and surveyed the grounds.

"Mr. Kushrenada is certain this obsession is growing, and the perpetrator's sanity is fluctuating. He has stressed it is advisable the students be kept under the watchful protection of your people at all times. This was the caution forwarded to Tsuberov earlier today."

Otto took a deep, steadying breath and nodded. "I will increase the security detail I have stationed at the hotel, and have a discrete surveillance of them while they are on the school grounds. Given this 'stalker's' ability to come and go, pretty much as he pleases, I will not be happy until you have identified him."

Yuy inclined his head. "We need to handle this matter speedily and quietly."

"I will have the guard on their hotel suite increased while they are in residence. The suite will be under surveillance while they are absent as well, with a periodic walk-through slated for just before their arrival. There will be an increase in the number of guards patrolling the grounds this evening, particularly near the laboratories, given the scheduled evening sessions. Did you know Winner and Merquise will be on the grounds late tonight?"

Chang inclined his head and Yuy grunted shortly, both of which Otto took to mean the men were aware of the work sessions scheduled to take place.

"I will ensure Maxwell eats with the main party dining at the hotel, and have the suite discretely checked before he retires for the evening. My men will need to keep a low profile, Maxwell is curious enough as it is, without him thinking he, or one of his friends, might be in trouble. I know the Chief of Security at the hotel personally, and I believe he will cooperate fully with me."

"Acceptable." Heero commented.

"Mr. Kushrenada and the Prime Talent Gabriella will be attending the work session for Zechs Merquise this evening."

Wu Fei watched as Otto's attention was plainly peeked at the mention of Gabriella. The man's lips formed her name silently and a frown creased his brow. Given his security level Chang presumed Otto would have at least heard of the eccentric Prime.

"The Telepathic and Empathic Primes, particularly those who share the dual abilities at Prime level, are expressing an interest in Mr. Merquise." Chang continued. "I understand they wish to determine if he will ascertain the rank of Prime."

"I have my doubts anyone would be able to approach him once the Primes are in attendance." Heero bent to pick up a broken piece of plaster, examined it for a moment and discarded it with a sigh at the splat that followed and squish as he took a step. "I wish I understood more about Psi function. To be able to effect this much damage and not be heard… I would think it is Winner with the highest profile of the three. He is the most likely to have drawn attention, being the Winner heir."

Otto nodded, his expression now bordering on outright worry, which Wu Fei found surprising. Before the mention of the Primes attending the University this evening, Otto had not seemed bothered by their discussion of the arrangements they required to be made.

"I'll see to the security on all three personally." Otto hesitated, glancing between the two. "I doubt anyone would dare to approach Merquise in such company. He should be quite safe if he should be the target, though I am inclined to agree with you, Mr. Yuy. Winner seems the more logical target."

Heero looked satisfied and Chang glanced around the room then motioned to the door. "Any chance of coffee?"

"I always have a pot on brewing." Otto returned and led the way from the room. "You mentioned a Prime named Gabriella. Would that, perchance, be the same Gabriella who appeared before the L3 Council and informed the Councillor's what she thought of their program to demolish a poor quarter; and failing to providing suitable accommodation for the displaced residents?"

Chang shuddered delicately. "I have no doubt she would be capable of such an act."

Yuy smirked at Chang. "I believe Prime Gabriella did beard the councillors in their den. I heard her displeasure was over inadequate compensation, failure to arrange adequate replacement housing, inadequate testing procedures to determine psi function in the district, and every imaginable fault with their laundry, their families and the state of their bank accounts." Yuy smirked, looking directly at Chang's back. "I understand she is considered quite formidable."

Chang shuddered, looking ill for a moment, and Otto looked plainly horrified.

"God. I was hoping you meant a different Gabriella." He seemed to stare deeply into nothing for a moment, pausing at the head of the stairs. "It's been a few years… What did we do to deserve her here?"

Yuy snickered aloud, clearly the man had had occasion to at least become aware of her antics. It seemed the Prime was quite well known amid the Security community. Certainly given her eccentric tendencies she would be a horror to provide security for.

"She's likely to have Merquise cowering in a corner." Otto muttered. "He does not have the highest esteem at the University and if she looks at him the wrong way, he's likely to panic."

"Does your establishment not teach the next generation of leaders?" Chang glared at the man; completely ignoring his own reaction to Gabriella's dressing down. "Do they not fortify the backbones of the talented, to face a working life at the highest echelons of society?"

Otto ignored the glare and the tone of his voice, continuing to look worried. "Zechs is not exactly a shining example of Tsuberov success. He's not had it easy… but perhaps his time on the streets will stand him in good stead facing the harridan Gabriella can be. From memory she was not originally from the higher end of the social spectrum."

Heero, deciding to get back to business, could not resist the smirk at thought of how the elderly, and rather portly, woman could send grown men quivering in fear. He would be certain not to draw her attention and he could remain amused by others' reactions.

"Were I you, I would be more concerned with the breakdown in communications that saw the warning fail to reach you." he murmured.

Otto seemed to shake himself, looking about him as though he had not noticed their surroundings before and motioned to the stairs.

"Coffee. I will be wanting some answers to that omission from Reception." Otto scowled. "I will forward to you my personal number. Feel free to call me at any hour of the day or night. That way there should be no further lapses in communication. If you will excuse me, I will go ahead and make a start on the security modifications. I will meet you in my office."

000000000000000000000000000

Quatre slipped through the door to the cafeteria and paused to look around him. At this time of the day the cafeteria was quiet, few students in attendance. He was to meet Duo to take advantage of a free period they had in common, and he was curious to see if Duo had had the gumption to try to slip a microphone on to one of the office personnel, or a security guard.

Spotting his friend tucked into the far corner, well away from the few other patrons, Quatre hurried over, noting with some surprise Duo actually had a textbook open before him.

"Did it work?" He settled into the seat beside Duo and proceeded to pour himself a cup of tea from the tray for two placed to one side.

Careful to keep his voice low, unwilling for anyone to overhear their conversation, Quatre peered at the text book and wrinkled his nose.

"I don't know how you can make sense of that stuff."

"Simple when you know how, Quatre." Duo flipped the book closed and stretched in his seat, taking time to work the ache between his shoulder blades a little. "And yes and no."

Quatre paused before picking up his tea cup and taking an appreciative sip. "Yes and no?"

Duo straightened and reached for an iced donut. "Yes, I managed to plant the bug."

Quatre was both impressed and horrified. "I have to admit I never thought you would go through with it. If you were caught you would be in serious trouble."

Duo contemplated the donut for a long moment. "Yes." He nodded slowly.

"Yes?"

"I planted the bug."

Quatre sighed. "You said that already."

"Yes, I planted the bug successfully, and yes, I was caught."

Quatre stared, horrified. "You… Oh man, I knew you should not have tried that."

"It's okay. Everything's cool." Duo made shushing motions, reminding Quatre where they were.

"How can everything be cool if you were caught planting a bug?" Quatre hissed, looking quickly about the big room, hoping they were being ignored.

"I planted the bug on the right person… well, on the wrong person, but it was cool, he was good about it."

Quatre blinked, sitting back and studying Duo, ignoring the other students moving around, though he did keep his voice to an intense whisper. "You planted the bug on the right person? But it was the wrong person? And he was good about it?"

"Yeah. Guess I was lucky."

"You were caught… but you were lucky." Quatre murmured. "Who did you plant the bug on? He must have been in a damn good mood."

"Otto."

The blond set the cup aside and dropped his head into his hands. "Otto? You planted a microphone on Otto? You tried to bug the Security Chief for the entire University complex?"

"Yep." Duo nodded watching his friend with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Otto?" A hoarse sounding whisper. "You want to be expelled, don't you? You want out of here, and are going to leave me stuck here alone."

"Nope."

Quatre glared, willing himself to control his breathing before he hyperventilated. "He's taking you to the Headmaster over it. He has to at least notify the Dean, Duo. When the Board hear this you are so going to be out of here."

"Ah… No." Duo sighed. "Actually he seemed to appreciate the attempt and let me off with a warning. It was one of our little altercations, you know? We have this thing where we test each other from time to time? He took it in good humour, but I guess I'd better keep a low profile for the next few days."

"Yes." Quatre breathed. "A very low profile would be good. You will need the silhouette of a pea for the rest of the year. What possessed you to try bugging Otto of all people?"

Duo waved off the question, large eyes thoughtful as he devoured the remains of his donut. "I've got something else I think might work better."

Quatre moaned softly, eyeing his friend in disbelief. "You do want to be expelled."

"I'll test it tonight and if it works I'll see about placing it in the best possible position for us to learn what we can. Should be interesting."

"I know I'm going to regret this but… Where would the best possible place be?"

Duo considered his friend for a long moment before flashing his mega watt grin. "Are you sure you want to know? I wouldn't want you to turn green or anything."

"Duo." The growl was low and filled with irritation. "What are you planning on doing?"

"I have a few tests to run, but if all goes well we will have ourselves a direct line of sight into a certain Security Chief's inner sanctum."

"Otto's office?" Quatre's voice shot up in octaves, though not in volume. The horror of the unthinkable was unmistakable on his face and in his voice. "You are insane!"

Duo held up a placating hand. "Hey, trust me. The rumour mill has it the dorm block will be opened up in a couple of days. Now I don't know about you, but that says to me all the interesting stuff will be finished in there. I don't want to listen to a bunch of plumbers talking about U bends and shit. I want to know what is really going down here. To find that out we need to have our ears, and eyes, tuned to where the action will be. I am presuming that will be in Otto's office. He is the Security Chief, so he has to know what is happening."

Quatre scowled. "You'd have more chance of getting a bug into the Headmaster's Office than into the security block."

Duo grinned, eyes flashing with evil mirth. "Trust me."

"That always means trouble." Quatre scoffed.

"Look, Quatre, if this works nowhere will be safe from our ears. We will know more about what goes on here than the Headmaster himself. Hasn't your Dad told you about the advantages of having good intelligence?"

"He's warned me about the penalties of cheating, lying and stealing."

Duo looked offended. "I am not cheating or stealing, and I never lie. I am intelligence gathering, because I smell a rather large rat, and I hate being lied to. Don't you dare sit there and tell me you are not curious as to what is really going down here."

"Well of course I am curious! I would not be normal if I was not, but that does not mean I am willing to break into the Security Office to set microphones."

"Is that all the problem is?" Duo chuckled. "Worry not, my accomplice in crime. We will not be setting foot in the building. Trust me."

"I hate it when you say that." Quatre moaned.

"It won't take me long to check my baby over and if it works okay, I can make as many of them as I want. It will be great. I'm glad I had the prototype with me, to work on during our trip around the colonies."

"Duo, you need to be more careful. If you are caught breaking into Otto's office of all places, no amount of genius will keep you here. I don't think I could take this place with both you and Zechs gone."

Duo scowled and flipped a hand negligently. "We ain't gone yet, Kitty Kat. I'll be around another couple of years for sure, and Zechsy… well, nothing we can do about him graduating is there? He's stood enough shit. I wouldn't want to keep him here when I know he hates the place."

"No, we would not want to keep him here, especially if the rumour I heard is correct."

Duo studied a second donut; noisily slurped the last of the chocolate malt and decided he wanted to know what new development had occurred before he ate the donut. He had had one near death experience when receiving bad news while eating a donut. Once was enough.

"What rumour? Come on, Quatre, whose gunning for him now?" He leaned toward Quatre, almost falling from his seat, scowling fiercely. "Is that fucking Muller out to get him expelled again? I warned that asshole to leave us alone, or he wouldn't like the results."

"No, no." Quatre waved Duo back into his seat. "The benefactor, Duo. We've been concerned about his benefactor, who no one will name, for quite a while now, but maybe things will be working out better than I dared hope. If rumour is accurate I might not have to approach my father to interfere, with the offer of a contract no one can ignore and not have people scream foul."

Duo blinked, considering his friend. "Okay… Would this have anything to do with a certain sexy redhead, who seems to have caught Zechsy's attention? His Dukeship Kushrenada?"

"Dukeship?" Quatre rolled his eyes. "Honestly, Duo, where do you come up with these names?"

"It's a talent."

"Anyway, I had one resort to fall back on without trying to convince Zechs to go to court over unfair contractual coercion, if the worst happened. Getting an interview with them would have been difficult but not impossible, for me anyway. It would have required I approach them during the next holiday break, which might have been too late for Zechs to avoid being pushed into a questionable contract, unless I made an unsightly scene using the media. Not my preferred option, of course, but one I might have used if it proved necessary."

"Appointment? With who? You've lost me, Quatre, I have no idea what you are prattling on about?"

An offended sniff belied the glimmer in Quatre's blue eyes. "I don't prattle, Mr. Maxwell."

Duo blinked, considered his friend for a moment and scowled. "Quit playing me, Kitty Kat. Zechsy won't push against his sponsor without us pushing him, letting him know he'll have our support. He's too used to being ignored to think his protests will be listened to, so give. Tell me what the hell you are on about."

Quatre flashed a smile at his friend and primly sipped his tea, taking his time to reply; a small revenge for the worry Duo had given him earlier.

"Quatre!" Duo hissed.

"If the rumour mill has it right, Zechs will be entertaining visitors tonight." He relented. "I have been told by certain persons, who should know more than we do and have a reasonable accuracy about these things, that he will be doing a meet and greet. The university is expecting the Prime Kushrenada and, more importantly, T/E Prime Gabriella will be attending the work session scheduled for this evening."

"A second Prime? A second Telepathic Empath of Prime level will be attending tonight? Damn, that is fast action, isn't it?" Duo's grin erupted to blinding proportions, fading just as quickly. "Man, if he finds out he'll go into his shell and imitate a turtle… erm tortoise… oh whatever. You know what I mean. He can't afford to do that if someone is paying attention to him. If the Primes themselves take an interest in him, they could be his out from his benefactor's control."

Quatre nodded, grinning brightly. "It's more than that, Duo. It's Gabriella. She is not just any Prime, she's their troubleshooter. Gabriella only appears when the entire group take an interest in something… or someone. Usually you only hear from her if one of their own is in trouble, or if something that can affect them all requires personal attention. Gabriella has quite a reputation in high circles. Believe me, you don't want to get on her bad side."

"Damn." Duo breathed. "It's all to the good though, yes? Someone with rank has to stand up and take notice for something to be done. You can't get more rank than two Prime talents, can you? The benefactor will have to be damn careful."

Thoughts were racing through Duo's mind, Quatre could see, without employing his particular psi talents. Extending a tendril of sensitivity toward Duo he caught a whirlwind of emotion and shied away from it. He had no intention of spying on his friend and when Duo was thinking this hard it tended to give Quatre a headache, if he tried to keep up with his erratic thoughts. He had never known anyone as brilliant as Duo to think in so roundabout a manner. Quite often his thoughts seemed unrelated to the topic under discussion, but in the end he would reach a conclusion which was to the point, and often staggered a spectator.

"What are we going to do, Kat? Do we dare warn him? Maybe we could try to get him to relax and go with the flow? This could be good for him and you know what he's like. Sometimes Zechs is his own worst enemy."

"I know." Quatre sighed, leaning back in his chair and grinned up at the ceiling. "In all honesty, Duo, this time I think we need to leave it alone."

"Huh?"

"For now, at least. I've had the supreme pleasure of meeting her, you see. Gabriella is unique and words simply can not describe her. Remember my Dad has two T/E Primes working for him? They have told some interesting tales about this particular Prime."

"Interesting is as interesting does. The question is, is she a good guy in this? Will she rescue Zechs from the evil clutches of his benefactor?"

Quatre shrugged, looking thoughtful. "I don't know, but I hope so. I can't tell you a lot about her, but I can say that my father's team of Primes hold her in the very highest regard. One of the things they admire most about her is her soft spot for young underprivileged people. You could not have a better champion for your cause if Gabriella took it up."

"Well young, yes, Zechs is, though hardly a baby, but underprivileged?" Duo looked about him with a smirk. "This is Tsuberov, Kat. What's so underprivileged about going to University here? For that matter, there is nothing underprivileged about going to any University, not just this specific one."

"You don't know Gabriella. His background will be sure to gain her sympathy, as will the shadow hanging over him cast by this benefactor. His grades are not the greatest in the school, he only just gets by in some classes and he's certainly not Mr. Popularity with most of the teachers. She'll love him."

"You could say much of that about half the student population of the city." Duo returned dryly.

"Sceptic. If there is one thing I am sure of, it is that Gabriella will have investigated every class he's attended since he started school, not just since he came here to Tsuberov. She will know everything there is to know about him, before she comes through those gates. Mark my words; she will have reviewed every record there is to be found on our Zechs."

"Is that a good thing?"

"Of course it is."

"I don't know about that, Quatre. I mean, what was he up to before he came here? What if he has a record? He never said he did, but I never exactly asked either. It might go against him if he does."

Quatre grinned. "Oh, I think it might be a very good thing indeed, to have Gabriella involved. If anyone can learn who his benefactor is, it would be the Primes and if they go out on a limb to secure his future, I'll be more than happy. While I know my father would be interested in gaining another Prime Psi under contract, I know he'd have a lot of trouble achieving it. There were screams enough when he contracted the second T/E Prime, though those quieted somewhat when they became a couple and married. Its okay to contract a confirmed couple don't you know, but the Winner wanting three Primes in the same field? It would not have been easy to secure the contract. Other bidders for the contract would have taken that to court, which at least would raise his profile and make it harder for him to be snowballed into something potentially unsavoury."

Duo grunted softly, shrugging and admitting to himself the fairytale of the Winner buying up his friend's contract was precisely that, a fairytale.

"Who do you think his benefactor is? What do you think he wants Zechs for? I mean, look at the training he's being given. Man, they have him in etiquette classes every day of the week, even in his final year. He has to dance, has to know the etiquette for every possible social gathering you can think of, and he's even been forced to sit through formal banquets on three occasions. I don't get some of the things he's made to do. Why make him stand still in one spot for five hours without a break? What's it all for?"

Quatre scowled and stared about the cafeteria as he considered the implications. The points Duo had just made meant far more to him than they did to Duo, that was obvious.

"It's the sort of thing you find in a formal receiving line. High level diplomats, royalty and the nobility have to do it. On a regular basis."

"A formal receiving line? That makes me wonder just what his benefactor has planned for him."

"It is more than possible we have the wrong end of the stick, you know. The man… or woman in charge of Zechs may be legitimate, and is just ensuring he is prepared for a high profile position with a politician or noble. Perhaps even one of the remaining Royal Families in the European sector."

"So why be so secret about it?" Duo waved a hand negligently. "Not even Zechs knows who his benefactor is, his strings are being pulled by someone he can't even put a face to, let alone a name. I know he's worried and so do you."

"I know, I know. It's not easy for him."

"He hates half the classes he's made to sit through, and because of that he does not do half as well at them as he could. He's not dumb, Quatre. You know that as well as I do. The only reason he struggles in certain subjects, is because his teachers expect him to. You can't hide that sort of thing from someone with his abilities and he knows only too well they expect him to fail. Hell, everyone is aware he had a pretty low level of education before he came to Tsuberov. Not that he's being credited for it, but you can't be a talented idiot and make up the ground he has without having a brain."

"You are preaching to the converted." Quatre sighed. "It worries me, what will become of him. If his benefactor is not a crook, then what do they want from him? His contract should have been opened up by now for viewing. The first bids should have been received, reviewed and opened to negotiation."

"He said he was told the offers they had received were refused. No discussion or negotiation."

"Yes. At least now the T/E Primes know about him. I'm fairly sure they did not know there was a potential new Prime before Mr. Kushrenada arrived. I introduced Zechs to my father, but I never actually told him Zechs was expected to become a Prime talent."

"Why not?" Duo leaned back in his seat, stretching his arms back over his head, feeling the welcome pull against his shoulder muscles.

"Well, my father is pretty smart. Smart enough to know I do not introduce just anyone to him, and when I didn't offer more information he would have made enquiries. He would have discovered exactly who I am associating with and like enough to bring home with me. Just like he would have had you investigated." Quatre smirked.

"Thanks, Kitty Kat. I'm not sure I like the implications. If your Dad knows so much, does he know about Trowa?"

Quatre blushed, shaking his head in denial. "I doubt it. At least not about how highly I regard Trowa. I think he would have had a few words to say to me while we were on L4 if he did."

Duo sighed and slowly relaxed the stretch. "Maybe it will be okay for you two? He seemed like a reasonable man when I spoke to him."

"Being reasonable has nothing to do with sexuality, religion and the Winner dynasty."

"Ah." Duo sighed. "Distinctions."

"Yeah." Quatre sighed. "Distinctions."

"Hey, plenty of male couples have kids nowadays, especially when they have high psi talent to pass on to the next generation. I heard there is talk about putting forward a bill for all Psis above rating seven to breed with as many comparable ranked people as possible, to lift the gene pool."

"I have heard whispers of that too. It won't happen, Duo."

"Why not? Anything is possible in this day and age. To effectively increase the genetic stock with the psi active gene set you use every resource available, including diddling the genes to get a kid out of a male to male cross, which gay couples do. It would more than double the available breeding stock in the ESUN."

"Why do I feel like a horse turned out to stud?" Quatre whispered. "I think you will find it will not be that easy, Duo. There are too many religious and social issues to deal with. I would estimate at least fifty years, perhaps more, would be required for such a suggestion to be met with approval from the disparate organizations, particularly the churches. Some things just rub people up the wrong way, you know?"

t.b.c.

Karina Robertson 2008


	21. Chapter 21

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 21/

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 21/??

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. That's about as plain as you could say it.

Chapter Twenty One

It was a wonderful experience not to be the focus of Gabriella's ire. Certainly it was much more entertaining to be the one watching from the sidelines as she cowered others. Provided her sarcasm or temper was not focused on him, he was more than happy to observe as others cringed before the torrent of verbal abuse she was so skilled at delivering. Even her silences could be eloquent and those flashing dark eyes could speak volumes in a single piercing glare.

She appeared to be utterly unimpressed by Tsuberov's peaceful environs as they had driven through the grounds and the short walk to the heart of the University complex also seemed to have failed to impress her. It was difficult to tell what the Prime was thinking, given she was a master at controlling her emotions, but Treize was fairly sure she was not overly impressed by anything she had thus far seen.

They had met Dean Hargraves in his office and Treize had gratefully slipped into the background, taking his entertainment in watching the interplay with carefully concealed amusement. He found it quite amusing the Dean obviously knew which of them to butter up, as following the initial greeting the man's attention had been focused on the stocky Prime. It was in no way an insult to Treize's station as either Prime or Duke, merely a survival instinct in a man who knew where the greater danger lay.

Tsuberov would be well and truly aware of her reputation.

"We at Tsuberov are quite proud of our students. They are expected to excel, Madame Gabriella. We train the future leaders of the world and they must be prepared for their future roles."

As if Gabriella did not already know that, Treize mused. The woman did her homework and had taken the time to research the University, reviewing details even as he had driven her to the complex. He noted her slight inclination of the head, an acknowledgement of the Dean's comments. Those dark eyes missed nothing as she looked about her, at the wood grained walls with massive bookcases, antique furniture and the centre piece, the enormous mahogany desk dominating the room.

"I thought it might serve us best to have something to eat before viewing the working session. Generally we do not favour disturbing students preparing for deep level work and Mr. Marquise is at this time in isolation in preparation for his work session."

"Acceptable."

Treize held his peace, aware Gabriella's assessment of the expenditure of wealth on frivolities such as this office was bordering on obscene. Personally he found the décor tasteful, if perhaps a trifle lavish, though given the clientele of the establishment it no doubt echoed the expectations of the parents of the students enrolled here.

Gabriella was notoriously hard to please, though she claimed herself to be a simple and easily pleased individual; a Gypsy who had started life in a traditional caravan troupe. How accurate that was Treize had no idea, as no one seemed to know exactly how old the Prime was, however there were days he could laugh himself silly at how complex this 'simple' woman could be. She had a heart of gold, the mouth of a fishwife and the protectiveness of a female tiger out to protect her young.

He wondered if the University would survive her.

At the present time he suspected the Master of Tsuberov to be rather low on Gabriella's personal radar. He had noted the glint in her dark eyes as she assessed him on their first meeting and recognized it as placing the man within the lowest echelons of her notice. Somewhere above the level of a cockroach, but below the level of her pet cat would be his estimation. It was not necessarily a bad thing.

Given her mood of the day it was probably the safest place for anyone to reside. Treize just hoped he himself could stay low on her list of priorities for the remainder of her stay. He had had enough of her attention for the day, so the Dean and Masters of Tsuberov were welcome to her temper.

Prior to their arrival Gabriella had studied the personnel records of every staff member at the complex who might in any way come into contact with their future Prime. He had learned with Gabriella nothing was left to chance. She reviewed and studied and reviewed once again, making her initial evaluations on each member of the staff and would wait for a personal meeting to complete her picture of them. There had been few on the staff lists that had aroused more from her than a dismissive snort.

"My car is this way." The Dean murmured, daring to lightly touch her elbow by way of guiding her toward the door of his office.

"Car? What is Gabriella to ride in a car for? Legs I am having and is not so far to walk I am thinking."

The Dean hesitated, shooting a quick glance at Treize who merely arched an eyebrow, unwilling to draw her attention. He was hardly surprised, having a fair idea she was intent on viewing as many aspects of the daily schedules of the student body as possible during her time here. No, it came as no surprise she would protest what would most likely be a short car ride to an expensive restaurant.

"I thought we would go to a restaurant I know, a particularly charming establishment with excellent cuisine."

The comment was dismissed with a swish of her wrist and jangle of jewellery.

"Gabriella is not in need of expensive food. You have cafeteria and cafeteria is adequate for student's meals, is it not? Balanced meals designed for those who work with Psi, yes? Then cafeteria is adequate for Gabriella's needs."

"The… cafeteria?" The Dean looked stunned, though after a moment Treize thought scandalized might be a more apt description. "Surely not. An esteemed guest such as yourself…"

"Gabriella is happy to eat food with students who will one day stand where Gabriella stands. Hopefully this will be lesson for others to learn and they will not be forgetting life does not revolve around fancy food and chronic indigestion."

Treize bit the inside of his cheek to resist smirking. Watching the Dean deal with her was, as he had thought it would be, highly amusing. Unseemly as it was the man's jaw actually did drop for all of two seconds, before he closed it with a sharp click of teeth on teeth, looking uncertain.

"Feeding your students you are, yes? Then feed Gabriella. Have no fear, telling you I will be if you need to sack your staff for incompetence. No Psi Gabriella is aware of performs to expectations with inadequate food. Young Psi's will not grow strong if fed well they are not."

Treize restrained his smile admirably as Gabriella swept past him, departing the office with her long hair streaming behind her. The Dean seemed incapable of speech or movement, staring at the open door as though mesmerized. Taking pity on the man Treize moved to the door, drawing attention to himself and glanced back.

"I find it is usually far better to humour her. Much less painful." He murmured.

"I… see."

"I hope the cafeteria is not due to close any time soon? Gabriella has been known to take her time over a meal… although considering the reason for our presence here this evening, I doubt tonight will be one of those occasions."

"How long will she be staying in the city?"

There was both caution and hope in the quiet question and Treize fought down the urge to snicker. Why did most people find themselves hanging on the answer to that question? After all, within minutes of Gabriella's arrival he was wondering how long it would be before she departed to bother one of the other Primes.

He met the man's eyes and could not quiet suppress a quiet sigh, shaking his head slightly. "I honestly don't know."

"Ah." The Dean seemed to deflate. "That is…"

"Gabriella is not appreciating this waiting thing while whispering behind her back you are!"

The Dean shivered and hastened from the room on the heels of the younger Prime who determined it best to move his own backside smartly out of the office. Though he could clearly detect amusement in her emotions he was, after all, attempting to remain low on the Gypsy's radar.

"My apologies, Prime Gabriella. The cafeteria is this way."

Treize could not blame the man for his trepidation. Normally the first thing Gabriella did upon meeting a person was instruct them to drop the formality and to use her name, which was Gabriella not Prime. That she had not instructed this man to use her name told Treize the man's standing was in serious doubt, a fact that would not have escaped the Dean.

The Tsuberov Institute turned out world class Psi's and the world leaders of the future and certainly the Dean of such an establishment would know of every high level Psi working within the Earth Sphere. To adequately prepare their students to join the elite workforce required the teaching and administration staff have extensive knowledge of the idiosyncrasies of each elite Psi, particularly the elite of the elite, the Primes. Hargraves would have to know nearly as much about Gabriella as she knew about him.

Her reputation would have preceded her and the news of her expected arrival would have caused quite a stir at the complex. Her imminent presence most likely had led to every Master who was not required to be present to make a hasty excuse and retreat from the Institute for the night; if the Masters could find a creditable reason for making themselves scarce.

The student body did not have that option.

/I have to trust her. Given how she handled my situation I must trust her with Zechs Marquise./ Treize reassured himself as he followed the pair through the administration block. /Gabriella does not make mistakes with young Psi's, as she so frequently takes the time to inform me. She made no mistake with me./

Her skirt; brightly coloured and down to her ankles in length, swished from side to side as she walked, a reassuring sway. Everything about Gabriella was unique, including her penchant for taking young males under her wing and providing them with a stable and infinitely better future than their families projected for them. At least, so it had been in his case. He must trust she would work the same miracle with the future expectations of their prospective Prime.

/I would dearly love to gain full access to his file and learn who his benefactor is. There is something off about this entire setup and it is not just the matter of a Stalker hunting one of these young men. One question I would like to see the Dean explain is why we, the Prime Empathic Telepaths, were not notified there was a Prime candidate in our field ready for integration. By rights we should have been notified of his potential years ago. Why has news of him been kept quiet?/

If anyone could get to the bottom of the matter it would be Gabriella. She would not rest until she dug out every facet of the cover up which had to be happening here. If not for the sudden death of their John Doe they would know nothing of a new Prime, not until it was too late to ensure the young man had a fair and reasonable contract.

It was even possible Marquise's contract might have been suppressed indefinitely and his benefactor might have succeeded in slipping the young man under the radar, assigning his contract as he saw fit. Tsuberov Institute, like any other establishment for the training and further education for the Psi active young of their society, knew the appropriate protocols to be followed on approaching graduation. The fact they had failed to follow these protocols meant something underhanded was in the works. The question was what?

/Who has the influence, financial and otherwise, to keep him and his talents so low key? Why would they want to? Tsuberov should be lauding the approaching successful graduation of a Prime talent, not hiding his presence. Underground connections might possibly explain the secrecy. He was found on the streets, so it is possible an enterprising Crime Lord might have taken note of him and wish to make use of his talents. Tsuberov turns out well trained individuals and some of their students have family backgrounds from the darker side of society./

He would have liked the opportunity to slip away from them and enter the Dean's office and seek out the unabridged student records. Unfortunately it was not to be considered, at least for now. The Primes were aware of the new talent and they would not be forgetting him. Nor would they permit one of their own to be exploited, hence Gabriella's presence.

In the past she had stood toe to toe with world leaders and cowed them into submission on the strength of her tongue alone. This case would be no exception to her prowess.

"Treize. Are you planning on joining us or are you to stand so all day? Is wood grained wall you stare at, not masterpiece of Rembrandt."

At least she had not resorted to calling him her Naughty Boy in front of the Dean. Heaven forbid she should get tetchy with him in front of witnesses.

He made an effort to place himself at her side and look to be interested in their conversation. Certainly he could now be included in their conversation, but he made no true effort to join in. Gabriella wanted his attentive presence, not his feedback at this stage. She merely required he be attentive to her needs, make note of the subject matter and not be seen to be acting in a manner unbecoming of their station.

Sometimes Gabriella could be a bigger snob than the worst of the nobility tended to be. It all depended, of course, on the company they kept.

The cafeteria was a huge affair, which caused him to shudder at the expectation of the noise level at meal time. It would be horrendous, he decided, thankful that at this late hour the room was almost empty. Within an hour the staff would close the area for cleaners to prepare it for the breakfast sitting and at this time only a few teachers were present. A few small groups of students were dotted about the room, attending late meals and quiet conversations. Some sat alone, an array of books and papers spread out around their dinners.

Gabriella looked about the room and with a soft grunt nudged the Dean to a corner table that would permit her to keep an attentive eye on the goings on in the room, while maintaining a low profile.

"This is adequate for Gabriella's needs." The dark eyes centred on the Dean and Treize did not imagine the glint there. "Come, we will get meals. This takes me back to my younger days."

Treize winced, well aware Gabriella's had been a public school education and it had been acquired only after she had been forcibly removed from her nomadic family by a government out to exploit her unique talents. Much of her attitude toward government departments and politics in general stemmed from her early days. She had not made a good start in the beginning of her career and she maintained the Gypsy personality that had seen her thumb her nose at authority from the time she could walk.

With the lift of an eyebrow at the scandalized Dean, aware of the attention of the others in the room, Treize followed Gabriella to acquire a meal, wondering what offerings would be left at this late hour. It was well past the set meal time at the Institute, but given the Psi work performed here there should always be something decent on offer at the cafeteria during its operating hours.

Gabriella perused the selection with interest, offering no comments, good or bad, before making her choice and stacking her tray. When Treize would have chosen something light he received a threatening glare and sighed as his tray was piled high by the older Prime. He knew better than to protest and glared down the Dean who had a suspicious tilt to his lips. The Dean, to the watching stares, served himself a light selection and followed both Primes to Gabriella's chosen table, settling down and ignoring the attention their presence was causing.

"Gabriella is pleased."

Treize almost fell off the chair. He had not expected Gabriella to comment on the food, but he supposed she was giving concessions where they were due. Certainly the selection she had heaped on his tray was of a higher quality than he had expected and he was rather enjoying the meal. The Dean inclined his head, looking pleased that at least something had appeared to please the woman.

The conversation was kept light and limited; Gabriella being one to enjoy her food and believed in the philosophy of more eating and less talk was good for digestion. Watching her Treize decided she was genuinely enjoying herself. At one point she leaned forward, her attention caught by a honey blonde haired young woman, obviously a student, with sparkling blue eyes. The girl was speaking with the Security Chief who had appeared in the doorway and catching her interest the Dean followed the direction of her gaze

He preened visibly, motioning to the pair. "Crown Princess Relena Peacecraft of Sanc. She is resident at Tsuberov for the next few years. We attract the trust of the world's foremost families to prepare their heirs for their future position."

Gabriella's dark eyes flashed and an intense look froze the Dean beneath her gaze. Treize was unsure of the reason for her interest in the young woman who could not have been a day older than eighteen. By the door the Princess Relena received a small respectful bow from Otto, who stepped aside so that she might depart and the Security Chief then made his way to fetch himself a meal.

Gabriella seemed to consider the encounter for a moment and flashed a piercing glance at the Dean, who seemed to draw in on himself in trepidation. Treize could not blame the man, not after noting the look in her eye.

/Hmm. Do I look like that when she turns those eyes on me? Not so good. I do hope I take it with a little more decorum than Hargraves is./

"The Princess has grown since last I saw her."

Two pudgy hands made a gesture before her ample bosom to demonstrate her meaning and Treize wondered if the Dean would topple from his seat, so scandalized did he look.

"Is a problem you are having with something?" Gabriella blinked innocently at the gaping Dean before abruptly changing the subject. "That man. Who is he?"

A fork indicated the Security Chief who was filling a plate with a steak and salad as they watched. Gabriella's eyes practically bored across the distance and Treize was not surprised when Otto looked about him, searching for the eyes he could feel on him. Gabriella ignored his scrutiny and returned to her meal, an eyebrow lifted quizzically at the Dean.

/Otto? I do believe it was Otto she was interested in and not the Princess. Interesting./ Treize was careful to keep his attention focused on desert, pulling the bowl toward him and discovering at his first bite it was blessedly tasty for a University cafeteria.

"Heinrich Otto, our Security Chief. He is in charge of the Universities security department. As you can imagine considering the families of the students here, it is a position of some responsibility. We pride ourselves on our student body and our ability to assure their parents they are safe from harm in our care."

/No longer a valid claim./ Treize mused. /Still, they are doing everything to assist us in determining the hunt has a successful conclusion./

"It is head hunting you do for this safety thing you claim. Gabriella is certain he was in Sanc Security. If I am not mistaken, and Gabriella is never mistaken, this one was of the King's Personal Guard."

The Dean blinked, clearly taken aback. "You… know Otto?"

Gabriella waved a hand airily. "Knowing of him I am. It is making it my business I do to know who works where Prime's work, even if it is not working directly together we do. Gabriella had the pleasure to be employed by the King of Sanc some years ago and had occasion I did to deal with his Personal Guard. I was knowing I knew that face."

"I… see." The Dean both looked and sounded wary.

/Well I don't. What the devil would Gabriella have been doing in Sanc?/

'Gabriella was minding her own business, Naughty Boy, which is what you should also be doing. Safer that way, it is.' The telepathic touch startled him and his eyes flew to the Gypsy who smirked at him, arched an eyebrow and returned her attention to her meal.

Suitably reminded of his place in the scheme of things Treize attended to his meal, though his gaze wandered across the tables unerringly to where Otto settled himself with his evening meal. The man checked his watch before beginning to eat and the action reminded Treize of the constraints of time. They were at Tsuberov this evening to observe their prospective Prime at a work session and evaluate for themselves his potential.

The session would be beginning soon and he could only wonder what Gabriella would make of Zechs Marquise… and what he would make of her.

0000000000000000000000000000000000

Agency Headquarters

Chang Wu Fei stretched slowly, bending himself back over the backrest of his seat, feeling the tight muscles pulling as he slowly stretched out the kinks. He wished the long day would end and he could retire to his home and rest. His ego had taken a severe bruising from that horrendous old woman, who had an incredible vocabulary of words designed to beat an ego into whimpering retreat.

Treize could keep his Gypsy Prime, lauding her and fearing her at the same time. If he never saw that woman again it would be too soon. The truly horrible thing was Sally thought she was marvellous. He could only pray his headstrong and very independent wife did not model herself on the evil onna. He would never survive living in his own home if Sally determined to emulate the domineering female.

He had enough trouble dealing with his wife as it was. She was not a traditionally raised woman and had her own strong views on everything from which side of the bathroom sink one's toothpaste belonged on when in use, to the current mistakes passed in the House of Representatives. He loved her dearly, but he feared for his sanity after seeing how she admired the Prime.

Spread before him on the desk were the latest notes and reports delivered to the Agency from Yuy's people. This was the detailed forensic examination on the suite in which their still unnamed body was found, prior to the demolition site it now resembled. After reading the synapses he had wished the original investigators had had the sense to request a Psi team before they trampled the scene. Had Treize been requested to scan the crime scene Wu Fei had little doubt he could have made much more of the scene had it been unsullied by the multiple presences of the forensic unit.

The discovery the crime scene had been wiped of psi emanations, in itself a unique ability, could have been used to determine information. The Prime talent could have made much of the scene had it been undisturbed since the event had taken place, detecting minute traces peculiar to the perpetrator and making it possible to add to their information. They may have missed vital evidence which would assist in identifying the Stalker.

He was still bothered about the instant assumption made by the investigators and the University Board of Governors itself, that Quatre Winner was the intended target. The more he read the reports the more uncertain he was Winner was involved. These reports included the Tsuberov Institutes initial report, before the affair had been officially handed over to the ESUN Security Agency.

Otto had submitted a detailed report on the discovery of the body and the events which had taken place subsequent to its discovery. A footnote in the report stated categorically there was no evidence to suggest Winner was the target. Having read both reports Chang had a new respect for Otto's abilities and agreed with him, there was not a single shred of evidence to confirm Winner as the sole victim to a potential crime.

It did not help the investigation that John Doe remained unidentified. Considering for three generations now it was law every baby born in the Earth Sphere was finger printed and DNA tested at birth, there should have been a match for him found in some data bank on Earth or in the colonies, but their finger print and DNA search had drawn a blank. That very conspicuous zero could mean only one thing. Some agency with a great deal of power, be it legitimately or illegally gained, had pulled the man's genetic records and removed them from the world and colony databases.

It opened up an entire new avenue of speculation.

/It suggests he is considerably more than was initially assumed. He could be either a government agent for a faction of the Council of Representatives, or he might even be involved in a crime syndicate. There are various large business concerns as well who have sufficient pull to break into the government records and remove all identifying traces of him. None of those options can be considered good./

The Medical Examiners report stated clearly the condition of the victim's body. He had been in prime physical condition and his health had been excellent before vital bones had been disintegrated to cram a human body into a space it normally would not have fitted into. There were no military service tattoos, no birth marks, scars and not even vaccination chips they might have traced. The neural net he had been fitted with was a high class affair, very expensive and all identifying serial numbers had not been erased; they had never existed on the device to be erased.

It left Chang with a nasty taste in his mouth as it could suggest only one thing. The man had been an agent for a concern as yet unidentified which was, on the scale of averages, almost certain to be government sanctioned.

/Someone was very careful to make it difficult to identify this man. Well, there are other means by which we might have some success. Not even a government agency can disguise where he grew up. To determine that will give us a starting point to pursue other avenues of identification./

The bones and tissues, particularly the teeth of an individual, recorded a great deal of information if you knew how to extract it. If you had the know how and a laboratory in which to do the work you could, with considerable accuracy, isolate the source of origin of an individual person in their formative years. DNA and enamel samples cut and ground from teeth could be analyzed to determine the unique regional signature given off in the chemicals that made up the food a body consumed. It was a method archaeologists had been using for years to determine the movements of ancient man and track the development of civilization and nomadic peoples.

The Agency, of course, had access to people who had the necessary skills and equipment to perform such a search.

Quickly and efficiently he authorized the tests be performed, aware he would have to wait a few days for the results, thankful it was not a wait of weeks as once it had been. The process was being refined constantly and he did not want to have this unknown body on his hands indefinitely.

"Are you ready to come home?"

He glanced up and smiled at his wife, folding her comfortably into the curve of his arm, relieved at the tone of her voice. Through the day and the previous evening Sally had made it plain to him she was less than pleased with his performance in the presence of Treize Kushrenada. He could only describe her reaction to that evil gypsy's tirade against his ancestry and all things associated with him as gloating. There was no disputing how much she had enjoyed his dressing down at the hands of the Prime and since his return from Tsuberov this evening a series of telling snipes had accompanied her every comment, until he had fled to his office to gain some peace and puzzle over the identity of John Doe.

It seemed now, finally, she had tired of rubbing his nose in his own mess and might be willing to forgive him.

"Almost. I have requested a round of tests to be carried out on John Doe to ascertain his region of origin. We need to narrow down our search area."

"Hmm, that will take a few days. Une has received confirmation Noin will be available to us, so that will also assist. She should arrive tomorrow, though I have no idea as yet on the exact time. I think Une was waiting for the confirmation of her travel arrangements when I looked in on her a few minutes ago. That woman needs to get a life beyond the Agency."

Wu Fei took the opportunity to nuzzle his nose into the hollow of Sally's throat, breathing in her unique scent and exulting in the absence of snide comments. It would be good to go home, he reflected, and perhaps begin to work on that baby they both wished.

"Perhaps now that peace has been made between her and Treize she may seek something other than old aggravations to keep her company."

Sally scowled, glaring down at the dark head, but enjoying his touch and the feel of his arms about her. "You are implying there might be something besides hostility between them? Something to suggest they might yet pair up? Give your homophobia a rest, will you Chang. Treize is a confirmed homosexual with no bisexual tendencies. Don't go looking for something that is not there."

Wu Fei, sighed, feeling her stiffen and the touch of temper in her tone. He was not going to have his planned evening ruined before he even made a start on it.

"I was not, Sally. I was merely hypothesizing that the trouble between the two of them may have had something to do with the Commander's lack of social outings… Perhaps her reaction to men is now wary, given the difficulties they had in the past."

"Her solitary tendency is far more likely to be the result of family pressure she has been taking for joining the Agency." Sally murmured. "I know they have been giving her grief for failing to attend to family commitments, namely the production of heirs for the family. She has as much flack to field over her career choice as Treize does. Honestly, I'm stuffed if I would want to be born into a noble family. They don't seem to have the freedom to choose what we lowly born creatures enjoy."

Chang snorted, pulling back from her with offended dignity. "I will have you know my ancestors ruled China! There is nothing low born about this particular creature."

Sally chuckled and leaned close to blow gently into his ear. "How about finishing up here so we can go and see about creating another temperamental being descended from the Emperors of China?"

Chang shivered delicately, all thoughts of Gabriella, John Doe and the Commander's nonexistent love life falling from his mind.

"We can at least take the time to practise. We must get this right."

Sally sighed but did not allow herself to become depressed at the recollection they needed to wait for the breeding laboratories, in the interests of avoiding potential difficulties with the next generation's psionic talent. She would have preferred natural conception, but she was only too aware of the dangers inherent in breeding for Psi talent.

He was right anyway, they could have fun practising, even if they must take precautions.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

"There now. All done."

Duo chuckled softly, the sound not too far above the level of an amused purr as he caressed the cold metal beneath his finger tips. The device was smaller than the palm of his hand, trim, compact and designed to gain him what would surely be interesting information.

His return to the hotel had led him to the discovery he was to attend the evening meal downstairs yet again, a great nuisance in his view as he was intent on completing his latest toy. No amount of persuasion had swayed his supervisor so he had changed quickly into something deemed more presentable to the society patrons at the hotel and suffered through the meal.

The only good thing about it in his view was that the food was truly excellent. It almost made up for the inconvenience of delaying putting the finishing touches to his little friend. With the social niceties out of the way he had gratefully retired to his room to complete his project.

With the lightest of touches he swivelled the miniature camera, pleased there was no hesitation in the action and grinned at the thought of the places this little beauty could crawl through. He was expecting his room mates to return in a few hours and he hoped to have his tests completed before their arrival.

He would not show his new toy to Zechs, not initially at least. The tall blonde was on occasion a stick in the mud, disapproving of his more shady entertainments, but Quatre had proven to be a willing conspirator in the past. The Winner heir had taken to questionable entertainments with the hunger of the starving, his privileged upbringing not having exposed him to anything that resembled Duo's warped sense of humour and talent for getting into trouble; and equally adept talent at extricating himself from said trouble.

"There we go, all ready for your test run, my little friend. Let's see what you can do."

The laptop set on the coffee table was his control station and he set the little robot, which resembled nothing more than a slightly overgrown cockroach, on the floor and turned to the computer with a manic grin of expectation. He had no doubts his gizmo would work successfully as he never made stupid mistakes with machinery, even miniature devices as this one was.

The camera and the robot were remote controlled, he had full use over the six legs of the device and with his program he would have no difficulty negotiating any obstacle in the robots path. The camera would enable him to see exactly what the robot saw and he had used power cells and a signal wavelength powerful enough to mean he did not even need to be close to the robot to control it.

He was quite pleased with the robotic bug.

The beauty of the entire set up was that even if his robot was discovered and investigated, no one would be able to pin the manufacture of the device on him. They might suspect, but there would be no physical evidence to back up their theory.

He had been careful with the parts he had used and most of the pieces were too small for him to have handled with his hands, therefore there were no fingerprints to be traced back to him; if it ever came to that serious a situation, which it would not. He was too careful with what he used his toys for to take needless risks and he was not criminally inclined, though he could have made a fortune if he had been.

He chuckled as he directed the robot to crawl across the floor, using only the vision the computer screen showed him to direct the robot around the furnishings with no difficulty. The six legs moved efficiently and speedily and he was more than satisfied with the simple test. Next he tested the range by sending the bug into his dorm-mates rooms and noting the response never faltered. He would need to do a longer ranged test but for now this would serve his purpose.

"I should call you the Beast, but you are just too cute."

After a moments deliberation a wicked grin dawned and he was quick to position and climb a chair, giving himself sufficient reach to access the wall vent set just below ceiling height in the lounge. He spared a thought for the chair, deciding it must have cost a few thousand credits and wishing it was a little more suited to standing on, as he felt it shift beneath him, but it held his weight and he tackled unscrewing the vent.

He removed three of the four screws holding the cover in place and slipped the bug into the vent before popping the cover in place and replacing a screw, certain two would keep it square and no one, if he had unwelcome visitors, would notice his tampering. Returning to the laptop he settled down, rubbed his hands in expectation and directed the robot to trundle through the vent to the adjacent suite. Even the sensitive microphone he had built in could not detect a sound as the robot moved rapidly along.

"Looks like those non slip pads will silence you effectively and the servo's are just too small to generate much of a sound. Maybe I should call you the Ghost Roach? Now, lets see… where would be best to try first, hmm?"

He had been careful to make the device as silent as possible. The aim of the exercise was to hear what others were saying and see what was happening out of his immediate sight, not to give away his snooping.

/Snooping? Why do I feel like Otto is standing behind me with that disapproving frown of his? Ah, no, I don't snoop. I'm just… exercising a healthy curiosity. Yes, much better. The young are supposed to be curious and how will we learn anything if we don't listen at keyholes? Or air vents as the case may be./

He needed his robotic insect to be silent and small enough to escape notice, but powerful enough to give him good range and decent control. In this age of miniaturization the parts were readily available; all it required was someone with the savvy and the will to build one.

While the speed of the robot was satisfactory he would have liked a little more, but he could improve that in the next model. It did not take him more than a couple of minutes to negotiate the vent and position the camera at a gap in the vent screen of the next suite.

"I expected the Dean to attend dinner, didn't you, Cheryl?"

Duo grinned at the clarity of the voice of Charity Walker. Perfect reception, clear of interference and he congratulated himself on a job well done. He knew the range was not a problem as yet, but he would go a little further in the vent system shortly, as he had an idea of how much distance he wanted between himself and his target destination the next day.

Charity and Cheryl Simmons were telekinetic talents and daughters of politicians highly placed in the Council of Representatives. He was not out to discover state secrets, not that the girls were likely to know anything sensitive anyway, they were both notorious gossips and no one in their right mind would tell them anything they intended be kept secret. The sound on the bug was working well, but could he get a picture to go with the sound? Given the grill on the screen it would take some precise positioning to allow him more than a blurred image of a grid line.

"He had a prior engagement. A particularly important prior engagement."

"Oh? Do tell."

"I was in the hallway outside his office when the notification came through. I thought his secretary would burst a blood vessel she was so wound up. I tell you they have a cheek going on at us about uncouth language. You should have heard the Dean swear."

Duo's ears perked up as he listened in, chewing on the tip of his braid as he worked at positioning the bug to give himself some sort of view. He only hoped Otto's office had a vent with larger holes. He could hear sounds of movement but see only a blur at the present time.

/The Dean swears and was overheard by a student? My, my, what is the world coming to?/

"Dean Hargraves was swearing? Don't just nod at me, tell me what made our oh so proper Dean cuss."

"Cuss does not begin to describe the language." The girl snickered and Duo heard some rustling he could not identify. "What set a hornet's nest of activity off in the University this afternoon was news of the imminent arrival of the Prime T/E talents, Kushrenada and Gabriella."

"Primes? Two Primes were arriving at Tsuberov?" Charity sounded intrigued and Duo was sure he heard a book close. "What did Tsuberov do to receive that sort of distinction?"

/Yeah, looks like Kitty Kat was right./ Duo smirked. "What about… there? No, guess not. Damn, why do things have to be so unobtrusive in this place? A nice big chunky vent with lots of air holes; big ones is what is called for."

"I rather received the impression from his reaction that he did not think of it in exactly that light." Amusement laced the girl's voice. "I think he considered it a major disaster. He had Marquise to thank for the visit."

A moments silence and when Charity spoke Duo had no trouble hearing the confusion followed by exasperation in her voice.

"Marquise? Lord, what's he done now?"

Duo scowled as he gently tweaked the controls. He had a picture, finally, but it showed little more than a patch of fairly empty room. Still, it was a picture and there fore the device was operating. He could not help the tiny little holes in the air vents which did not lend themselves to spying. The test was, however, a success and he could move on to test the range.

"You did not hear that the T/E Prime Treize Kushrenada was at Tsuberov yesterday? Apparently he noticed Marquise and even asked to talk to him. Don't you think it an odd coincidence that one day we have a Prime on the premises and the next day we have two? And one of them the T/E Prime Gabriella, no less. I take it you have heard of her?"

"I think everybody has heard of her. If only from someone who has heard the latest whisper of who she has dressed down. She could not possibly be as bad as her reputation. Not even a Prime could get away with half the escapades that woman is supposed to have done."

"I don't know; I have never had the pleasure of meeting her. Kushrenada is handsome though, far better looking than I though he would be. My father knows some of the Kushrenada's and he said the Prime was something of a black sheep in the family."

"Luck to him. I hate the idea of having to conform. So what about Marquise would bring two Primes back to Tsuberov?"

"It seems the Prime Gabriella wanted to meet him too. I think it fairly safe to say the Dean was unhappy with them knowing about him."

"Well, you can't exactly say he is a shining example of Tsuberov training, can you? Some of the things I heard he tried to pull after he arrived here… He's very nice on the eyes though and it has to be a prestigious feather in the cap for Tsuberov to have trained a Prime talent and not just any talent. Telepathic Empaths are the rarest and the hardest to train."

"I know, and I would have surmised the Dean would be pleased to have attracted their attention."

/Not if something is fishy, Ladies./ Duo mused.

His fingers danced quickly over the keys, inputting commands to the robot and guiding it through the vent. He would need to reach at least the fourth suite along to be sure he had enough range to perform his mission the next day. Maybe the sixth would be better?

Quatre would be interested in knowing they were not the only ones to notice the Dean's reaction to the Prime's reacting to the abilities of one Zechs Marquise. He now had proof it was not just his or Quatre's overactive imagination.

" Okay, Roach. Your maiden run even turned up some information I found to be interesting. Let's see how far I can send you. I will need to be careful, I can't afford to lose you in the vents, I'd have hells own job retrieving you. I'd better remember how to get you back to this suite, too. Those vents are a maze. Another hour or so before the others return. Good. Plenty of time for a decent test run."

t.b.c.

Karina Robertson 2008

Authors Notes:

Treize Kushrenada : Level 10 Sending/Receiving Telepath + Receiving and Projecting Empath at Level 10. Prime rated. Agency Operative contracted term of 5 years with 2 years remaining. 25yrs of age Training facility: Psychic Institute Munich Division.

Gabriella : Romany descent. Level 10 Sending / Receiving Telepath + Level 10 Receiving and Projecting Empath. Prime Rated. Training facility rumored to be Government Laboratories of the Prussian Republic deposed in the year AC 45. Age: Unknown rumored to be approximately seventy four. Oldest of the Prime Telepathic Empaths.

Dean Alexander Hargraves: Dean at Tsuberov University and Parapsychic Institute. Neural Implant. Sending / Receiving Telepath Level 3

Heinrich Otto: Tsuberov University Security Chief. No Psionic talent. Staff Member at Tsuberov for five years. Fitted with a Neural shield implant against telepathic intrusion. Former employment, Sanc Imperial Guard. 35 years of age.


	22. Chapter 22

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 22/?

This chapter betaed by the wonderful ShenLong Deb.

_Italics_ = Telepathy

Chapter Twenty Two

Considering the clientele catered for by the University, Treize had expected Tsuberov's Research, Development and Training facilities to be the best money could provide; and he was not disappointed. The Dean took the opportunity to show off his extensive complex, expounding on the virtues of the facilities. Nor was he was shy about naming past students from influential families who had made names for themselves and benefited from the training available.

Much of the equipment, Treize noted on the tour, was state of the art. While they watched one unit undergoing installation, the Dean informed them it was a gift from a grateful family whose kinetic son was now one of the leading kinetics in the Earth Sphere. Though not a Prime Telekinetic he was a Level 9 and was proving to be more than beneficial to his family's mining company. Stationed in the Asteroid Belt at the hub station handling the mining traffic to and from the region, the young man had managed to avert a number of collisions between ships and saved lives, equipment, money and time.

/Of course, the mining conglomerates would be after every kinetic they could get their hands on./ Treize followed after the Dean and Gabriella in silence. /Donating training equipment to Tsuberov would ensure the continued training of kinetic talents, who would quickly be marked by mining conglomerate scouts./

He was more than mildly surprised that during the grand tour Gabriella remained silent and attentive to every word the Dean uttered. Treize had expected her to firmly put the Dean in his place with a display of verbal mastery and imaginative rhetoric and have them hustled to the destination they had come to view. Instead the Prime took her time, examining the facilities and asking to the point questions about equipment, Professors and technicians and the students themselves. Trieze made a note of which installations and instructors aroused the most interest, though she was careful to spend equal time in each laboratory.

He was not deceived by such care. Gabriella was drinking in every nuance of conversation they were privy to. At the end of the evening she would be able to repeat every word spoken in her presence. Certain machines used in the training process produced a flicker in dark eyes and whether her interest was for good or ill, the University would know within the week.

If Tsuberov could secure the recommendations of a Prime it would be a very large feather in their bonnet.

Hargraves was in his element, delighted to finally be able to please the Prime, but Treize watched and wondered at the reasons behind Gabriella's actions. He had learned early in their association that Gabriella never did anything without a motive. This silent and attentive woman on the arm of the Dean almost frightened him.

An amiable Gabriella was extremely dangerous.

The Gypsy Prime sauntered along on the arm of the Dean, her dark eyes flashing with interest and keen intelligence. What Treize found most worrying was the faintest of smiles curving her full lips. He noted the exact degree of attention she paid to particular members of the teaching staff; showing interest in their past employment and their ambitions for the future. So amiable was the Prime that Treize began to make note of the exits they passed in the event he needed to quickly disappear.

Marquise and Winner were not the only students working in the complex. As the tour progressed and they observed work sessions, Gabriella would enquire as to a student's name and ability; their level of expertise and the projected levels for the students on concluding their tenure at Tsuberov. Some aroused more interest than others and a number of the students even earned the honour of an introduction to her, at her request.

/What is she up to?/

They paused in laboratory 23, listening to the Dean and a technician explaining the uses of the latest kinetic monitoring system used to test the first year students. Those students tagged with kinetic markers to their talent would spend time in this laboratory determining the strengths and weaknesses of their ability.

/Usually she skips over the tourist route and cuts to the chase./

No sooner had the thought flickered through his mind than he felt her dark eyes on him. Glancing up he noted Gabriella was indeed watching him and he caught the reproach in her glance. He managed what he was sure would be a sickly attempt at a smile and projected interest in the kinetic technician monitoring the station. He was either so transparent the woman instinctively knew where his thoughts strayed, or his shields had slipped and she had caught his thoughts.

Either way he had been noticed and warned to mind the business at hand.

Content he at least gave the appearance of being interested, Gabriella returned her attention to the Dean, leaving Treize to wonder why she was being so accommodating where earlier she had made no effort to be the well mannered and patient woman she now projected. Her reputation was such that the Dean should be quivering in his boots with trepidation at the abrupt change of attitude.

He had to wonder about the intelligence of the man. Or his lack of a survival instinct.

Honestly the woman confounded him and no doubt she took a fiendish delight in that fact. Treize freely admitted he could not keep up with her or her mercurial mood shifts, but he loved her dearly and for that simple truth he would tolerate a great deal. She was the one person who had understood him and the will that drove him when all others had determined the course of his future. It had been Gabriella who had taught him to live his life, not merely to exist. He owed her a great deal.

Perhaps his mood was the result of touring the kinetic laboratories, when all he really wanted was to lay sight to a certain cascade of very blonde hair. When finally they made their way out of the building he had high hopes of finally reaching the Empathic and Telepathic training centre. He should have known better.

The Dean escorted them into the recovery complex separating the kinetic laboratories from the E/T complex. Hargraves set about showing them the student recovery rooms, the teachers lounge facilities and the conference room where, twice a day, the teaching staff consulted the day's roster and evaluated test results.

"We have state of the art facilities in all of the Psionic sciences, as you have seen and I am proud to say that our teaching staff is the very best…"

"The best?"

Gabriella's voice, low and throbbing with amusement, drew his attention immediately. While not exactly scoffing at the claim made by the Dean, Treize could detect more than a trace of the acerbic tone he was more familiar with. He noted the Dean tense and waited for the explosion he was sure would not be far away.

"It is having the best staff to teach your students you are saying? How can this be so?" Gabriella wafted a hand around the staff room which chanced to be empty. "Gabriella has taken note of the staff you are employing, particularly staff who have the teaching of telepaths and empaths." Dark eyes flicked to the Dean and her lips twitched slightly with a smile. "Now, look not like Gabriella has hit you. Is truth, nothing less am I saying. How can any establishment, even your much adored Tsuberov, claim the best teachers when you yourself admit no Primes have you here? Pfft! Silly Man. No Primes resident to train young minds, mean Psi's of tomorrow train under second best teachers."

The Dean blinked, staring at the Prime with steadily lifting eyebrows. Gabriella waved a hand expansively, ignoring the incredulous expression. Treize slowly began to relax, not seeing imminent explosions of Gabriella style put down in the offing.

"This is to be expected, yes it is. Primes have many matters to attend and sleep we need. Work we have enough of, believe me. We take it upon ourselves to train younglings who come to work with us. Many things can not be taught in places like Tsuberov and must be faced out there. Out there in real world. Out there where shelter there is not for the young who expected to be adults overnight and face harsh reality called real life. This is where Primes watch over younglings and fill the gaps in their education."

Now that was more the Gabriella Treize knew. Her dark eyes flashed with unholy amusement and a saucy grin silenced the Dean's protest. Treize felt an impudent flick at his shields, as though Gabriella had just given him the finger for his earlier thoughts.

Would he ever understand this woman?

The Dean flashed him a confused look, beseeching him for some explanation of the Gypsy Prime. Treize shrugged, far from surprised Gabriella had come out with the unexpected. It was her forte after all. At least she was playful and not haranguing the University for every short fall imaginable and then a few peculiar to only Gabriella's inventive mind. Did the man honestly think the fire tongued Prime he had met in the administration building was the exception and the docile polite woman was the true Gabriella?

More fool he if he did.

Besides, Treize reflected, technically she did have a valid point. How could Tsuberov, or any of the Psi training centres around the world, claim to have the best instructors in the ESUN for developing psychics? There was not a single Prime talent in any of the varied fields of psionics who was employed in a teaching capacity. Not even the mammoth Psychic Institute he had chosen to oversee his own training, could boast the services of a Prime Talent within its ranks to work with the student body.

He had learned much, gaining his Prime accreditation from the Psychic Institute, but he had learned as much, if not more, under the observant eyes and minds of the Prime's supervising him following his training and entry into the work force.

Why were there no Prime talents engaged in the actual teaching process? The simple truth was there simply were too few Prime talents in existence to waste their talents as instructors.

That he knew of there were only three Level Nine telepaths employed at the Psychic Institute and one at Tsuberov and none of the three telepaths had an empathic rating greater than Level Eight. Nor was it just the telepathic empaths with a Prime psi rating who were rare. It was frightening how great a gulf there was in measurability of talent between the Level Nine talents and the Prime talents. Given the differences in capacity for work it was no wonder if you were found to have a Prime's talent you could look forward to a pampered life.

Pampered but hard working.

The Primes earned their money. He certainly earned his pay and he was earning his time off too. When this business was dealt with he was taking that vacation, seeing his daughter and taking the opportunity to simply vegetate. He would luxuriate in utter idolatry for all of two days before the itch to do something would drive him insane.

Primes were never idle and doing nothing was alien to their experience. They had little experience in leisure time and it quickly annoyed them on the rare occasions they were graced with the opportunity to indulge.

/I never could abide doing nothing for any length of time. A few days to get my shields sorted and some time spent with Marie… Yes, I could enjoy that. Three weeks would be good if I can manage to escape for that length of time and secure Marie to keep me occupied. I doubt they would give me more./

His attention snapped into focus at the lightest of touches to his arm, the feather touch of one Prime to another. He recognized Gabriella's touch and the warmth that pervaded him from the briefest brush of her mind to his. It was an alert for his attention; an understanding brush of mind to mind promising work on his stressed shields at a later time and a request for his patience and attention.

There were two people approaching them and Gabriella wanted his opinion later, he could feel her interest and understood why she had touched him. The hallway ahead of them led to the telepathic and empathic training facilities and he was relieved they were near their goal. The tests being carried out this night on Marquise were listed as routine, part of an assessment carried out for the final year assessment. Winner was undergoing tests on his telepathic talent, lesser exercises demanding considerably less in expenditure of talent and effort. He was a lower level telepath than Marquise and Treize had to wonder if he would develop enough strength and range with his telepathy to make the rating as a Prime Telepathic Empath.

While he had expected to at least view a part of a working session given the grand tour they had undergone, he had not expected to run into the Winner heir in the hallway. The young man was smiling broadly, blue eyes dancing with genuine pleasure and offering a deep and courtly bow to the beaming Gabriella.

"Prime Gabriella. A most unexpected but welcome pleasure. It has been some time since last we met."

Quatre Winner was a charmer and Treize found himself wishing Trowa luck with their relationship. Handsome, intelligent and talented, he was assured of his place in the world, never having doubted himself or his right to stand where he did. The Winner heir had never lacked for anything, or had cause to doubt his right to be exactly where he was.

"Prime Gabriella… you know Mr. Winner?" The Dean looked between the two, waving the young talent's Supervisor back and to wait.

"But of course," Quatre beamed at Hargraves.

"Bounce this cherub on my knee I did. When there was more knee visible to bounce him on." Gabriella looked at her chubby middle with a wicked grin.

Treize smirked and the Dean looked scandalized, but Quatre laughed and presented himself to be enfolded in a classic Gabriella hug. He was at ease with the Prime and when she permitted him to escape her clutches he offered a polite bow to Treize.

"Your Grace."

"His Grace, Duke Kushrenada, Quatre Winner." The Dean made formal introductions hastily.

"Tsk. Prime Kushrenada," Gabriella corrected. "Prime rating exceeds all titles of nobility and rank. Nobles are as common dross. Is Primes that are rare, is it not?"

Treize rolled his eyes at the superior tone of his fellow Prime and noted Quatre was quick to smother a laugh. The Dean was caught gaping at the Prime, who arched an eyebrow at his expression before summarily dismissing him, returning her attention to Quatre.

"Pleased am I to be learning how your studies progress. So, little Bright Eyes, is it making of yourself a Prime Empath you are? Shall it be Tsuberov crediting two Primes to their tally before too many years must pass?"

That was a salve to the Dean's abused sensibilities, Treize knew. From shocked disbelief the man positively preened at mention of a Prime tally beginning for the University. Quatre spared a smile for the Dean, but kept his attention focused on Gabriella and Treize. He was obviously aware the Dean would be scandalized if the Prime's should feel insulted or shorted of attention whilst on the University grounds.

"At this stage I am projected to make Level Nine, so it is entirely possible by the time I complete my training that I may make the jump to Prime status, at least as a receiving Empath. I still have great difficulty in projecting emotions, Gabriella."

"Bah. Pfftt." A pudgy hand waved dismissively. "Barely more than babe are you. Gabriella will keep her hand and her eye on your progress. Doubt it not, I will be watching and kick you in breeches I will if I see less than best effort on your part. Gabriella is fond of bright eyed young men who need seat of britches warmed with her love."

The podgy fingers twitched for emphasis and Quatre resisted the urge to giggle while Treize sighed in defeat. The woman was horrible and delighted in her antics.

Quatre offered a bow to her, blue eyes glinting with his amusement. "It would be my honour to have you warm the seat of my pants should I fail to perform at my best. My apologies, Prime Gabriella, but I am expected in laboratory 5 in just a few minutes. Professor Jensen has made it clear in the past he does not approve of tardiness."

"Pfftt! You will be telling this Jensen fellow satisfying terrible old women is not tardiness, but well developed survival instinct. If agree he does not, then suggest he come and argue truth of terrible old women with Gabriella."

"You are not to be survived, Prime Gabriella, but adored." Quatre bowed once more, going so far as to take the Prime's hand and touch his lips to the back of her hand in a quick, fleeting and graceful movement.

/Silver tongued brat,/ Treize mused.

There was no denying that Winner knew how to get on the good side of the notorious Prime. He was clearly not above using unashamed flattery to his benefit. Rather a smart young man and Treize decided he could like the youth.

/No wonder she chose the name Bright Eyes. They are by far his best feature./

"Get along with you and your golden words, urchin. Gabriella will demand you visit and pay court to her before leaving this city. Words of flattery said so prettily have not graced these old ears for a long time. Is nice change. I would learn how your father is doing, Bright Eyes and how well it is you two are dealing. Big dog snarling at small snarling dog is not good."

"Father is quite well, Gabriella and we have not been arguing of late. I shall be most happy to have the honour of an audience with you." He half turned, offering a polite and quite courtly bow to Treize. "Your Grace. It has been a pleasure."

Treize nodded and with a final nod, this one to the Dean, Quatre hurried off, his Supervisor at his side. For a long moment Gabriella watched him depart and then turned to the Dean.

"Understanding I am young Quatre has a low telepathic rating. Suspecting I am he will not be making a Prime rating as a telepathic empath?"

The Dean shook his head slightly, not hesitating to respond to her query. This was a Prime asking of the future prospects of a studying student, one who well might, given his talents, come to work with the Prime in the future.

"The current statistics lead us to project a rise in his telepathic capacity to perhaps that of a level six, certainly no greater than a level seven. He is a fully receiving and sending telepath, but the link enabling his empathic talent to be generated and magnified through his telepathic talent is not well developed. It is at present doubtful we can produce a change of such significance as to enable him to attain Prime level gradients. In regards to his empathy, he receives very well indeed, however his projection function is low. We do not believe at this stage there will be a great enough improvement with the focusing links between telepathy and empathy to lift him to full dual Prime function. However, he still has development and growing to do before his talent settles. He may be a late bloomer."

"So." Gabriella considered the hallway where Quatre had vanished. "Not a Prime telepathic empath; this is more than a pity but something not unexpected. Prime level as a receiving empath with lesser projecting function is more likely?"

"That is more probable. At his last evaluation the projection stood at level 9 ability. Given the time he has remaining at Tsuberov and the development over the last year or so, as he ages it is projected at a ninety five percent chance of becoming a Prime Empath, with a moderate grading toward high telepathic range. I have little doubt he will earn the Prime designation in at least the Empathic function. Given he is only eighteen he has at least another two years of psi development ahead of him. In light of the information received on his development prior to arriving at Tsuberov, we expect his talent to peak by the time he turns twenty."

"Such a nice boy," Gabriella murmured. "Bright Eyes name is inscribed on Gabriella's list of bright young men who need watching over." The Prime's hands met in a sharp clap and she fairly bounced in place, turning to the Dean. "Now Dean of fancy school with much money and much potential; let us away, yes? Gabriella is wishing to see this one who will make Prime and become one of Gabriella's bright young men."

/God, Marquise, I apologise now for letting her loose on you. I sincerely hope you have more of a backbone than they seem to think. My Gabriella can be quite overpowering and if she has already decided you will be one of her bright young men, there is nothing I can do to get you free of her clutches./

Treize followed Gabriella obediently, noting the flash of fire in her dark eyes. The Prime was, it appeared, done with the tour and the Dean seemed to realize it.

He did not mind his own standing as one of those bright young men Gabriella claimed as her own. He by far preferred to be considered one of her bright, pet talents than to be one of the psi's Gabriella took an active dislike to. The woman had a reputation which spanned the entire Earth Sphere. He did not know of any high powered psi or government official who, at one time or another, had not received a dressing down from her scathing tongue.

She could be overwhelming, but once she decided to accept you and go out on a limb for you, she was an indomitable mother. With Gabriella it was all or nothing, she loved or hated with equal passion. Should she take a shine to Marquise she would be as tame as a mother wolf defending her cub.

As one who could testify to this from personal experience, he could say he had found it to be a pleasure to be beneath her protection. He might shiver and tremble with her displeasure, but Gabriella was always fair and always honest. The odd days of her displeasure were survivable purely and simply from knowing she chastised you with love. He loved her as a mother, this woman who had been the first person to truly understand him.

"Mr. Marquise is using laboratory seven this evening. The session should be underway by now and there will be more to watch than preparations."

/I was beginning to think you were trying to avoid our meeting with him. You have ensured we missed the beginning of the session, so was that happenstance and you wanting to showcase your facilities, or was it something else? Ah, look at me. Treize, you have developed a deplorable habit of looking for the worst case scenario. I need to spend some time away from the Agency before it permanently colours my vision. Let's see just what the boy has got working for him in a session. This should give us a fair indication of his potential./

Boy? Young man, but perhaps if he forced himself to think of Marquise as a boy, a youth still underage, he could control the ache developing within him. According to the universities records Zechs Marquise was twenty years of age and nearing his twenty first birthday. That clearly marked him not as a boy, but a young man and a young man who was almost of an age to be independent of the state system. Upon reaching twenty one he would have full rights by ESUN law to control his life independent of a legal guardian's control; though being a Prime talent he was required to take up employment that would benefit the ESUN itself.

/But you were not known to be a Prime talent, were you? Until recently we did not know there was another who could stand with us. Your development has been kept quiet and I have to wonder why they were trying to keep you under wraps. There is more going on here than we think and I am uncertain it has anything to do with the stalker. The identity of the corpse worries me, in that we have not learned his identity and it is now approaching forty eight hours since his death. There is something there suggestive of deeper waters running around us. Slow, dark and treacherous. How did they think they could keep someone with a Primes talent secret? He would have been noticed at some stage, even if it was when he entered the work force under contract. Questions would have been asked. Answers would have been demanded. One can not permit a Prime talent to be trained in secret and used. It smacks of slavery, at the least a monopoly on young, impressionable talents./

Something was very wrong and they needed to ensure they examined the procedures at Tsuberov to ensure future students all throughout the Earth Sphere received a fair deal.

The thing about the use of telepathy and empathy was that most of the time an observer could not tell if the user was actually doing anything. They were abilities invisible to the untrained eye. The dietary requirements of a Prime's diet could tell you the expenditure of energy they had extended reflecting the depth of level required to complete their work assignment. The energy expenditure involved in deep level work tended to make certain most Primes in their various fields had gargantuan appetites, a reflection of the bodies attempt to renew the calories used in the exercising of their talent.

Kinetic Primes could be observed to be doing something, the lifting or manipulating of physical objects was quite discernible to the human eye. Telepaths and empaths, however, could be mistaken for appearing slothful at first appearance. Only when you observed the monitoring equipment at a test facility such as this, could you gain some indication of the activity taking place and quite often that activity would exceed the projected figures of the tests being undertaken.

As they entered the observation deck of the laboratory, the first thing to draw his attention was the bank of monitors on the near wall. He was not alone in his attention, as Gabriella ignored the staff monitoring the session, moving immediately to sweep the monitor readouts with experienced eyes and then moved to the two way mirror overlooking the laid back chair and young man seemingly asleep.

His tall, slender form was stretched out over what most people would mistake to be a dentist's chair. A thin band of silver from which fine filaments of wire protruded and linked the youth to the chair was fitted to his forehead. Through the shimmering pale waterfall of hair, Treize could just make out the glimmer of the pads placed over neural centres, fine wires linking back to the brow band. His eyes were closed, his breathing light and even, the regular controlled breathing of a well trained Psi in working mode.

There were three technicians in the control room, each attending to a bank of computers monitoring and recording data, and moving between each station was the test supervisor. The man would study the readouts and make notes, the only sounds in the room the scratch of his stylus on the hand pad and the hum of the machines. No one spoke, all eyes focused on the stations and the only concession to their presence was the Supervisor offering a small nod before moving to a second station.

Treize placed himself out of the immediate walk way, but ensured he had a decent view of the monitoring stations and could look down into the laboratory itself. All eyes, he noted after a quick look around, seemed to be lingering on the Alpha wave readouts, a healthy wiggle on the graph gradually picking up in frequency. The theta band was concise, regular and picking up in intensity, a clear demonstration, given the scale being used, of the talent contained in that delightfully blonde head.

/Enough of that, you idiot. Business before pleasure and there is a great deal of business to accomplish before one can even think to entertain the pleasure aspect of the old adage../

Had Marquise been asleep the fluctuation in the Alpha band would have suggested he was dreaming and the heart and respiration indicators graphed beneath the Alpha line would suggest it to be a halfway pleasant dream. There was not so much as a wiggle in a graph line to suggest stress in any of the readouts Treize observed and he tried to keep his eyes on the monitors, not on the slender young man who unknowingly disturbed his peace of mind so easily.

"How is the exercise progressing?" The Dean kept his voice to a low murmur designed not to distract the technicians, moving to station himself roughly in the centre of the room so the Supervisor could circulate between monitoring stations without having to go around him.

"Contact has been established with the first four of our test subjects and his responses are logged. He has not missed once, but then he never does; does he?"

"Excellent." Hargraves sounded extremely satisfied and turned first to Treize and then to Gabriella, deciding he needed to keep a wary eye on the Gypsy and not the aristocrat. "The testing this evening is evaluating his range and any effect long range might have on the clarity of his reception and sending to the designated targets."

"The targets assigned, how far will this be reaching? Gabriella must know his range." The Prime turned from the window, her dark eyes thoughtful.

"This evening is the fourth and final global evaluation of his ability," the Dean informed her.

"Should he succeed with low to no indicators of stress, we will have him attempt to project as far as the L1 colony cluster. We have three agents waiting for the attempt; however, he has ten targets to contact on Earth before we give the go ahead for the reach into space." The Supervisor inclined his head by way of greeting to the Prime, immediately returning his attention to the monitors.

Gabriella turned back to the view into the laboratory and studied the long strands of pale hair; hair somewhere between the palest gold, silver and white. An unusual colour and rare she knew and a colour she could not help but know intrigued her Naughty Boy. She was well aware of Treize's evaluation of the young man, both his physical characteristics as well as the depth of talent glimpsed in their initial contact.

He did not quite claim the Nordic colouring she had expected to find, given the glimpse of him from her fellow Prime's mind and the photographs in his file. Close, but something was not quite Nordic about that fine bone structure. With narrowed eyes she took in the fine planes of his face and the slender body; slender but not thin by any means and there was evidence he worked out to tone that lithe body. From the vidpics of him she knew he claimed crystal blue eyes and she was eager to see what she could see in the depth of those eyes. It was the eyes, after all, which were the windows into a soul.

_This one is pretty, Naughty Boy. Very pretty. Gabriella could wish she was forty years younger. Teach him I would what it is to live. Feel I do I have seen this one before, but this is not possible. Sure I am I have not._

Treize flicked his eyes toward her. _He is familiar to you?_

_Good looking boy he is, any mama would be happy to have so pretty a son_. Gabriella ignored Treize, turning her attention to the Supervisor. "Reached beyond the planet has he before?"

A quick jotting down of figures and the man turned to her, offering a small very proper bow. "No, ma'am. This will be his first off planet attempt."

"For first attempt L1 is distance of considerable reach."

"His past test evaluations suggest anything closer than L1 would not be a test of his ability. I doubt he will have to pull too deep from within his reserves to reach as far as L1."

"Which of the L1 colonies is the designated target?" Treize queried.

"L1 08379. We have a research station established on the colony," the Dean explained. "We often use our personnel stationed there for distance testing. I assure you the target psi's are all above level six, all fully trained and are quite practiced at clearing their minds for the students to contact."

/L1. A good distance. Admittedly a decently trained Level Nine psi can reach there, but for a first attempt at off planet contact it is quite a test,/ Treize mused, flicking his gaze toward Gabriella and wondering what she thought of the target.

"How long would it be before the examinations are completed? This one will be named a Prime when?" Gabriella's gaze bypassed the Dean and held the Supervisor, making it clear beyond any doubt who she intended answer her.

"At this point in his examinations, Mr. Marquise is mid way through the examination levels projected for his graduation. Prior to the end of term break he was designated at Level 9. Preliminary projections indicate that by the turn of the year the process of examination and classification should be concluded. At this stage I would suggest he would make a Prime's designation by Christmas, but it would not be for another six or seven months before he could be ratified by the Psi Board."

"Christmas." Gabriella's dark eyes shuttered and Treize was surprised he did not hear a muted mental rumble rise in the room as she mulled over this information. "So."

Dark eyes lightened and she dismissed the Supervisor with a decisive nod to turn back to staring through the glass partition.

/Now what is that about?/ Treize watched her with well disguised curiosity. / She knew before we arrived at Tsuberov what Marquise's projected study course was. She knew the projections for his examinations and the certification dates before she even arrived in the city, so what is she up to? Something is not right here. What game are you playing, Gabriella?/

There was something in her stance, in the almost purr of content he read from her, his empathy leaving him in no doubt as to her emotions, despite her excellent shielding. Gabriella was one to have secrets, though no one was permitted to have secrets from her.

"Remain we will to observe conclusion of this test. Interested I am and appreciate a chair I would." Gabriella looked to the Dean expectantly.

Treize scowled. /We intended to remain and observe through the entire session, so why…? She is definitely up to something./

Recalling the events of the day and in particular the evening and Gabriella's antics since arriving at Tsuberov, Treize was more certain than ever Gabriella was keeping secrets. There were a number of oddities he had noted during the evening, particularly before they had left for the complex which he had not thought much on at the time, but it had been enough to allow him to know Gabriella had something on her mind.

One thing that particularly stood out in his mind was the incident in the cafeteria, where Gabriella had reacted to the appearance of the Princess of Sanc. At least he had thought she had noted the Princess, though it appeared to be Otto who had actually attracted her attention.

/What was so special about her seeing Otto? She commented on having worked with him some years back, but she has worked with a great many people and never reacted to any with such interest that I know of. It is almost as though he is the very last person she would have expected to find working here. She said he was one of the King's Personal Guard./

The Dean appeared startled by her demand, though he was quick to see about sending for additional seating and it gave Treize time to consider the Prime's very small, very subtle smile. He recognized it if no one else did.

/He was a high level security officer in Sanc. I saw the picture hanging in his office of the Imperial Guard and thought it odd then that someone in Royal Security would be found at a place like this. He is certainly on friendly terms with the Princess, so he spent time guarding the family itself, not just the palace. Perhaps he has been stationed here to oversee not merely the university security, but the personal security of the Princess herself? But why send him so far in advance of the Princess' arrival? Otto has been here for a number of years, the Princess has only just begun attending Tsuberov. No, something more, I think. Something more and Gabriella has an idea of what it is./

"So, if this Pretty One is to be rated Prime by Christmas, Gabriella is interested in his work placement for experience. Where is he to be assigned? Meet with my approval it must. At least one Prime rating close to hand there must be."

There was nothing casual about the enquiry, her tone brooking no prevarication. Treize forgot about the puzzle of the Security Chief and watched as the Dean's back snapped taut and the man's face reflected dread. The Supervisor and Dean exchanged looks before the Supervisor returned to monitoring the readings, leaving the unfortunate Hargraves to deal with Gabriella.

Treize would not put it past Gabriella to be using her talent on the man, though such was expressly forbidden by protocol. He was equipped with a state of the art neural shield, but such things were not total protection from a high level psi, as Treize could attest to, and Hargraves was pinned by the Prime's dark eyes. The man would be glad to see the back of them, particularly Gabriella, who was at the best of times difficult to read. Now she was like an enigma brought to life, a short plump enigma designed to give anyone and everyone a headache.

And she did it so well.

"Mr. Marquise's work placement has not, as yet, been decided. We are as yet uncertain as to his exact potential and wish to conclude this round of tests before we decide what would be best for the young man."

"Pffftt!" An expansive wave of one hand dismissed the Dean's argument. "Make Prime he will, of that Gabriella has no doubt. It shines out of him, this potential you are blind to, putting your faith in soulless machines and numbers. Still, doubt his potential not do you. Primes know other Primes and this one is Prime. Know you we who are Prime look out for our own and this pretty youngling Gabriella is claiming for herself."

"Excuse me?" The Deal looked scandalized. "Madam…"

"Too few of us there are. Puff up not like goldfish with bulgy eyes. Gabriella has spoken and Gabriella is not one to be ignored."

"Madam, I have no intention of ignoring you, however…"

The dark eyes flashed and Treize winced at the crackle of energy he sensed. Empathic and telepathic Treize caught the flow from her and noted the Dean flinch as he too caught the current, the plain warning he desist immediately.

"There are too few of we who are designated Prime talents in this society spreading out to the stars. There are too few of us who are viable, usable talents, graced with strong enough wills to be classified sane. As of this moment, Hargraves, Mr. Marquise is designated one of us, Prime, beneath my express protection and I defy you to find another who would dare to gainsay me."

/Where did Gabriella go?/

Treize stared and did not care that anyone who looked would catch him staring. They were all too busy staring at Gabriella to worry about the other Prime in their midst. This cold eyed woman with the quiet voice, who spoke so precisely and strongly, was not the woman he though he knew so well. Even her accent was gone and she spoke precisely, with no trace inflection in her voice and no skipping words as she was want to do. She was very clear, very concise and seriously frightening.

"I… see," the Dean managed after a long moment.

"I doubt that, Mr. Hargraves, but in time you will. Now. I believe I requested information on Mr. Marquise's work placement."

The technicians exchanged looks and determined it was safer to mind their work, turning to their monitors and attempted to look as though they were not present. The Supervisor hesitated and then quietly stepped to one side, closer to a monitoring station and with shaking hands brought his palm pad back up; effectively abandoning Hargraves to whatever mercies the Prime might graciously permit him.

"As of this day, Mr. Marquise's work placement has not been discussed with me. His benefactor has requested such matters be delayed, as he wishes to…" he hesitated beneath the baleful stare. "We have been waiting for his benefactor to put forward a projected list of possible placements before we make any arrangements."

"A projected list of placements. I see. I take it consultation with the young man himself has not been considered necessary?"

The Dean made the mistake of reacting to that barb by flinching and Treize knew Gabriella had made the correct assumption. He was pleased to know his fears had been well founded and disgusted that Marquise would be expected to quietly take the work placement without objection. Did they presume to know his interests so well they could make the choice that best suited his nature, or were his views and interests considered to be of no importance?

"Gabriella does not approve of this arrangement, therefore all other Primes do not approve."

/Jesus. /

Treize managed to contain his reaction, maintaining a calm facade with difficulty at the cold, deadpan delivery. Gabriella was studying the Dean with the intensity of a scientist observing a new species of insect. The chill emanating from her seemed to double and Treize fought with his gut reaction to remove himself from her vicinity. This was playing havoc with his tattered shields, but he was Prime and this was a matter for Primes. He would not move; he would not flinch.

/What has gotten into her? I know I was concerned with what was happening here, but… Gabriella does not approve? She is going to go too far, even for her. He will lodge a formal complaint about this./

"I… beg your pardon?"

Treize was well aware the monitoring staff were eyeing the small dark haired woman and not paying attention to their monitors. The readings were being recorded, but a good technician could pick up on something happening before it became apparent to the casual observer. If Marquise required assistance even a few fractions of a second delay could have far reaching effects on his talent.

The Dean looked to be on the verge of collapse, eyeing the Prime with trepidation and no small amount of anger flickering there beneath his amazement and awakening fear. He was reacting to her broadcasting and Treize wanted to remind her the Dean was a low level send and receive Telepath. He could easily be overwhelmed by her stronger talent, despite the protection of the neural screen.

Gabriella was playing on the mystique of the Primes throughout the Earth Sphere Alliance to interfere in a matter that was really of no concern to the other Primes. Marquise was still a student, not a designated Prime talent at this time and he was not in any immediate physical danger from the staff or his benefactor. Technically they had no right to interfere in his life.

There was talk of introducing legislation into the House of Representatives designed to protect the growing number of psychics from exploitation. To his knowledge that was all it was, talk. Eventually some form of advanced protection would be required, but these things were notoriously long winded and generally people were hurt, even died, before protections were established. He was not happy with the situation, but realistically, what was a person to do? Legally, how could the Primes interfere in this situation when it was obvious the subject of their concern was not an underprivileged individual missing out on training and being physically abused?

Zechs Marquise was the legal ward of someone who was providing an exemplary education and the best possible training of his talent. Such training and living facilities were normally available only to the children of the ESUN's most privileged families. The Prime talents had no blood ties to him; no legal rites to interfere in the education of the young man. Though Treize disliked what he had heard thus far and wanted something done, he could not dispute that in any court of law in the ESUN, Marquise would be seen as being given an opportunity normally denied a child from his background.

To Treize what was happening here smacked of possible exploitation. The University and the unknown benefactor of the student would be well within their rights to demand legal action be taken against Gabriella and for the Prime to be sanctioned for her interference. Gabriella could find herself up before a board of enquiry with a please explain and the politically placed opponents to a steadily developing Psi society sprouting on about heavy handed psychics who thought they owned the world.

Her dark gaze flicked over each person present, staring the technicians into turning back to their monitors one by one, turning to Treize and moving on to the Dean. She was not cowered or cautioned. Again Treize could only wonder where the gypsy he adored had gone. This sharp eyed woman with the hard lines around her mouth and the agate cold eyes was not the Gabriella he knew and loved.

"Be aware, Dean Hargraves, recently Gabriella was contracted to the Department of Psychic Affairs." Her dark eyes flashed fire with deep seated satisfaction. "It has been noted in the past the ESUN does not stand still, but expands and grows exponentially. All too often this growth is with little, if any, centralized planning. It has come to the attention of certain persons in influential positions that high level Psychics are being exploited, monopolized and mistreated; in some deplorable cases, mistreated physically and mentally. Too many persons are thinking because they train us and pay for our upkeep, that we have little in the way of ethics and we may be swayed on their word to their ideals. No. No, this is not to be permitted. Gabriella is now in a position to interfere with such misuse of psi talent."

/Oh my God./ Treize blinked, but managed to contain himself to that one flicker in his composure. /No wonder she arrived on my doorstep and swept through the Agency without fear of censure. She's not acting just for the Primes. She is acting for the Government as a Government trouble shooter./

"I don't… I fail to see what the problem is." The Dean straightened, facing her with more of a backbone than he had shown to date. "Mr. Marquise is a student here undergoing training at the behest of his legal guardian. He is in training…"

"Official notification will be released by the end of this week in a statement to all educational institutions, from the House of Representatives. For the ESUN to continue to expand more Psi children are required to be found and trained. Already there has been a marked increase in instances of exploitation. It is known children are being tested and taken without notification to the appropriate authorities. This is an abuse of their fundamental rights. The government is there to protect the rights of the individual and finally it has decided to act. By years end, by law, it will be required for all children within the Earth Sphere to undergo mandatory testing for psi development twice yearly. Government sponsored clinics will be established to this end. All children who test positive will be further assessed and registered. All existing and future educational institutes training children in psi talents will be required to file a plan for the development of their students with the Psi Council and thereafter be subject to review and monitoring on a yearly basis. The Psi Council, under the instruction of the House of Representatives, retains the right to veto any training it considers inappropriate to an individual psychic and to suggest appropriate training be undertaken in its place. This applies to the placement of work related experience under a student scheme as well."

The Dean blanched. "What you speak of is impossible. Statistically it would be impossible to scan the millions of children that will require testing annually. There are not the facilities, nor the trained staff, available to test even an eighth of the numbers you are talking about. As an educator and a psi myself, I heartily approve the proposed measures in the bill, but realistically it is not a viable proposition. This was the reason why the government decided against mandatory testing and evaluations twenty years ago and again ten years ago. They have neither the staff nor the financial capacity to fund such a project."

Gabriella smirked and Treize resisted the urge to flinch back from her. He must not react, either to the pain from the overflow of emotion in the room or to the Dean's despairing look, as though he expected Treize to be the voice of reason.

"What was considered to be not possible before is now a fait accompli. Recent advances in technology make it possible, if not exactly a comfortable procedure, to process the volume of people we are talking about. The consensus is that Psionic ability is too valuable a commodity to be wasted. A marked increase in the birth rate of psi active children over the last two generations has led the government to believe there is no choice other than to begin this program." Gabriella's eyes narrowed. "It was always only a matter of time before these measures were required to be taken. The human species is changing, adapting, developing as we venture out into space. Psychic ability has been marked as an active development in the species since the Colonies were introduced."

Where was his lovable gypsy now? In place of the volatile gypsy sat a hard faced government official, whose speech patterns were far from the gypsy lilt and directness he was accustomed to. This woman, if she had even a half of the political clout she suggested, was now extremely dangerous to cross… not that it had been smart for anyone to cross her before. Gabriella on her own was frightening enough, but Gabriella with the backing of the government was a terrifying prospect.

/These measures could stop exploitation, at the least reduce it considerably, but with each successive change of government there is the potential for abuse of the system they now are introducing. The government itself could exploit it on a mass scale./

_Yes, there is potential for abuse, but we will ensure there are as many active Psi's on the Council as there are normal's. Worry not, my Naughty Boy, Gabriella knows what she is doing_.

He caught her glance in his direction and the faint nod of reassurance she offered him, as well as the soothing caress of her psi touch to his abused mind. He could only trust she knew what she was doing and that adequate safeguards would be put in place to protect future generations. He loathed the very thought of psi's becoming mindless government tools.

"Prime talents of all fields will be available for private contract, but as of the end of the week with the official release of the legislation, all new Prime talents registered will be under government sponsorship. This includes the current generation now being trained in educational facilities." Gabriella wagged a finger at Treize as he instinctively reacted to that announcement in protest. "Rest easy, Gabriella is not a fool. The government will have a say in the assignment of the Prime, but will not interfere in a safe and reliable placement for the Prime being contracted out. Private contracts may be accepted if they meet with government sanction and the agreement of the Prime in question."

t.b.c

Karina Robertson 2008

—

Notes:

Treize Kushrenada : Level 10 Sending/Receiving Telepath + Receiving and Projecting Empath at Level 10. Prime rated. Agency Operative contracted term of 5 years with 2 years remaining. [25yrs of age] Training facility: Psychic Institute Munich Division.

Gabriella : Romany descent. Level 10 Sending / Receiving Telepath + Level 10 Receiving and Projecting Empath. Prime Rated. Training facility rumored to be Government Laboratories of the Prussian Republic deposed in the year AC 45. Age: Unknown [rumored to be approximately seventy four]. Oldest of the Prime Telepathic Empaths.

Dean Alexander Hargraves: Dean at Tsuberov University and Parapsychic Institute. Neural Implant. Sending / Receiving Telepath Level 3

Quatre Raberba Winner: Psi student, 2nd year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Current Level 5 Telepath, projected Level 7, Current Level Receiving Empath 9.3, projected Level 10, Prime. Current Sending Empath Level 2, projected Level 4. Colony of Origin, L4 Cluster [18 years of age]

Zechs Marquise: Psi Student 5th year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Level 10 Receiving/Projecting Empath [approaching Prime Designation] + Level 9 Sending /Receiving Telepath, Projected L10 function. Finder function suspected, not officially registered. Country of origin, Luxemburg. [20 years of age]


	23. Chapter 23

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 23/

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 23/??

_Italics_ telepathy

Chapter Twenty Three

The laboratory seemed preternaturally quiet as the minutes ticked away and the technicians attended to their stations, careful to look only at the data streaming before them. It was clear they wished to be seen to be attending to the test and not to be concerning themselves with the conversation they could not avoid having heard. They had no desire to be caught up in the world wielding machinations of the old woman sitting so primly to one side, dark eyes twinkling with silent amusement.

For Treize, from this day on, Gabriella would forever be marked as a woman who shook the world, not merely his world. Treize, watching in silence, knew that not one of the technicians would carry this tale beyond the laboratory. None of them wished to be caught up in the world shaking aftermath.

It was clear enough to him that they were approaching a crossroads, where the path of the world would be decided by a few and followed by the many. Whether the changes would be for better or worse could only be revealed by the passage of time as the world turned.

The Dean, Treize noted, was looking more than a little pale. Rather than watch Gabriella in silent trepidation, the man looked to be lost deeply in his own contemplation of the revelation of the path being taken toward the future. He had a right to be concerned, given it would fall to he and people like him to take on the duty of training those tagged as being psychically aware. Should events work as Gabriella suggested there would be insufficient training institutes for the influx of the Psi aware the program would uncover.

Treize was certain the bulk of the people who would be tagged as Psi active would be lesser talents, those who could perform what were termed parlour tricks to amuse the masses. But amidst the lesser abilities there would be found those who could be trained up to take a place in building a world to advantage everyone.

Psi, in his personal view, was a talent to be used to the benefit of all, though there were many people, Psi active and mundane, who had an entirely different view. Many with mundane minds feared the power those with Psi active minds could accumulate. They concerned themselves with maintaining the superiority of the mundane human, employing various methods designed to subjugate those who were Psi active. To be certain there were individuals amid the Psi community who did indeed consider themselves to be superior to the non Psi.

It was the actions of a few who too often affected the world of the many. One person in a public position could sway the masses.

Should a Prime or near Prime talent go rogue, the results could be world shattering.

Psi active humans were no different, morally, to the mundane humans who had given birth to their Psi active descendents. The world which had bred them all should not be made to suffer from the teething tensions between those who advocated the old way and those who grasped greedily for the new.

The source of the emotional high radiating from the four Tsuberov men present in the control room was blissfully ignoring them all. Gabriella's attention appeared to be focused on the young man visible through the screen in the laboratory. Treize was not deceived; the Gypsy Prime would have a thread of awareness monitoring each of the men present, particularly the Dean. Gabriella was more than adept at multi tasking and she was too wary an old bird to be taken by surprise. She would be aware of the intent behind every twitch, every flicker of an eyelash and every nuance in a frown.

Dragging his attention away from his thoughts and back to the business for which they had come to Tusberov, Treize found himself watching her from the corner of his eye. He could only wonder what her opinion of the young man would be and if, as she had implied, she would take him under her wing.

That Gabriella would see Marquise need no longer be concerned as to his future place in society Treize did not doubt. His primary concern was in determining just what position Marquise would find himself filling in Gabriella's personal world. It was possible the Gypsy Prime would have herself set up as a Guardian figure, taking the necessary time and trouble to oversee the remainder of his education and see him set securely in a position he was content to fill. This was the straightforward option, the everyday life and times of a Psi in the modern world.

It was not the everyday life of one of the privileged few who could claim to be one of Gabriella's Bright Young Men.

Treize both feared and desired that the Prime who had taken him under her wing might also take Marquise as a protégé.

He feared it and he desired it.

Yes, he lived his own life. He was useful to society, more useful to the common man than he would have been had he become a traditional example of a Kushrenada. He was independent of the family machinations, having a mind and will of his own. He was all of these things and more, all thanks to the old woman who had noticed him and chosen to step into the hell his life had become.

Once Gabriella noticed you and adopted you and sorted chaos into order, you were not abandoned. Gabriella kept her bright young men on a loose lead, allowing them to lead independent lives, but they were as securely bound to her as though they were tied physically.

He had the greatest respect for her and her abilities. She was not just a Psi. She was Gabriella. Her temper was unique, her view of the world could be eye opening and her dalliance in world politics was now revealed to him. He had previously suspected she was involved in far more than she had let on and his suspicions were now confirmed, but he knew, as complex as the woman was, this was sure to be only the tip of the iceberg.

Gabriella was one of the movers and shakers of the world.

He had come from a long line of politicians and he was no stranger to their ways. He had recognized familiar signs in Gabriella and suspected, but he had not minded her interference in his life. To effect the changes she had wrought in his life so speedily he had known she had to have hidden backers in powerful positions. His family normally did not back down or kowtow to anyone, but in a matter of weeks Gabriella had extricated him from their influence and ensured he chose the future he wanted.

She had never abandoned him after setting his feet on the road to his future nor, if she was intent on making Marquise one of her special young men, would she abandon him.

Treize resisted the rising urge to rub at his face in a gesture that would give away his consternation at the bombshell Gabriella had taken such delight in detonating. As one of her young men he would be involved in whatever designs she had in the future and so would Marquise.

What their part to play in the drama to come would be he dared not contemplate, without first knowing more of what was happening and who would be involved. There were others, men and women Gabriella had a special interest in; he was not alone in his position. Marquise would likely join their select group and it would be his fault for bringing the young man to her attention.

He would never be able to apologize enough, but realistically, he had to ask himself what else could he have done?

The Primes would have learned of Zechs Marquise within months; it would have been impossible to have hidden a viable Prime once he was working and in that time who knew what damage to Marquise might have been caused? He could only hope Gabriella did not make of Zechs Marquise an example to the masses of what could happen without proper attention to protocols being maintained. Even bringing Marquise's case to the attention of the House of Representatives was to plaster that very appealing face all over the media. Prime talents lived in enough of a gold fish bowl without the popular press becoming involved.

What part did her special group have to play in this grand design for the future? He was afraid to consider the many ramifications to the design she wove. She would be planning more than to have every child on the planet and in the colonies tested, but how far dare he pursue her intentions? Was he giving her too much credit? Would she go only as far as seeing the children tested?

He had considered her to be incorruptible, but perhaps he should reconsider and give her a more human aspect. It was, after all, a very grand design to make it law for the new generations to be tested and trained to their full potential.

He could only wonder how the government might begin to establish such a massive undertaking as the testing of every child in the Earth Sphere Alliance. He resisted the urge to shudder at estimating the number of children it would be necessary to scan. The logistics of the resources required to keep track of the children as they developed to a trainable age alone would be enough to occupy the super computers of the world for a year. How did the government officials honestly think they could manage this massive undertaking?

If they thought to agree to the testing to keep advocates like Gabriella contained, then they needed to think again. Agreeing to the testing and then making excuse after excuse for the delays in the testing occurring, would serve only to cause ripples in the fabric of the government as factions squared off against each other. The popular press would then wade in and bring the matter to the public and the debate would become something he was afraid to picture.

When considered sensibly and calmly the logistics involved in the operation were simply mind boggling. It would be easier to evacuate an entire colony in ten minutes than it would be to test the children of Northern Europe, let alone the juvenile population of the entire planet. It was surely an exercise in futility with today's testing procedures. Nor was it just on Earth this exercise would be required to be performed, as the populations of the colony clusters must be included in the procedure.

The more he thought on the figures involved, the more unlikely it seemed to him such legislation would be possible to enforce. Someone must have missed a decimal point or three during their calculations to have come up with so unsustainable a scenario. How could anyone realistically consider this a viable plan for the future?

In theory the idea was perfectly viable, however in the cold, hard light of reality to effectively execute the design was another matter. It would require fifteen to twenty years of preparation before testing procedures would be sufficiently refined and the superstructure to support such a mammoth undertaking could be completed. It would take that long to train the necessary personnel to man the test stations, devise a standardized test schedule, establish testing centres for the testing to be performed in, and a propaganda program to be initiated to educate the general population to want to submit their children for testing. Then there would have to be established a long list of centres and support structures and personnel where the tagged children could be monitored periodically, before they could be passed into the hands of a certified training institute.

Gabriella stirred, drawing all eyes to her and interrupting his train of thought. For an instant he though he saw fear in the eyes of the Dean, though emotionally the man had long since vanished behind the protection of his neural unit. Not that Treize could blame him for being wary of this woman; he was probably counting the same costs as Treize for such an undertaking. A huge burden would fall to the existing educational institutes for training Psi's and they would never be able to cope with a mass influx of children requiring the development and overseeing of personalized programs.

That was a major problem with Psi abilities. No two individual people saw the talent, or used it, in an identical fashion. Psi was a skill which required delicate handling and personal training with a dedicated team briefed on the personal idiosyncrasies of the Psi student. Some basic form of instruction could be given in a class numbering no more than fifteen individuals, but such basic instruction would only last for upwards of one year. After this period the training, of necessity, became much more personal with a strict program required to be devised and periodically reviewed to accommodate development.

Put simply, there were not enough institutions capable of handling the formulation of such a personalized program and there certainly were insufficient instructors available to work with the talented individuals.

It simply could not work.

"Status?" Gabriella arched an imperious eyebrow, flashing a glance about the room; a Queen expecting her courtiers to pay tribute to her could not have been less haunty.

His attention was dragged back to the test underway and he dismissed the impossible for the moment, centring himself to concentrate on reality. He noted two of the technicians actually started at the snap of command in her voice. Ignoring her would not have the desired effect of making her go away. Gabriella wanted details and they had neglected to provide those statistics to her on a regular enough basis to keep her sitting quietly.

Treize resisted the temptation to bare his teeth in a feral grin. It really was amusing to watch people scramble to please Gabriella, though it was not so amusing when one was on the receiving end of her temper.

Running his gaze over the various monitoring stations he listened to the report. Marquise had contacted eight of the ten listed targets on Earth and his vital statistics were green across the board. There was no indication of strain physically or mentally at this time during the test. This assurance was not good enough for Gabriella, who insisted on viewing the results of the EEG. Running her eye over the most minute flickers portrayed on the graph produced pursed lips and viewing the subjects pulse and respiration produced a soft grunt. Gabriella, on settling back into her seat, looked content and proceeded with a waft of her hand to hustle the technicians about their work.

She looked, in Treize's view, rather like a cat who had caught a mouse and awaited a saucer of cream as a reward.

It was worrying when she acquired that smugly content air.

/What are you up to?/

He would have to exercise patience and wait, but he was not happy about it. He was missing too much and he did not like not being well informed. Her dark gaze found him and she nodded once, turning her attention to the laboratory below, but a finger briefly flicked over the monitors and relays, a subtle reminder for him to keep aware and watch the proceedings with more attention than he had been.

The vast majority of telepaths were graced with a short ear. The term long or short ear referred to the effective range of their psionic ability. Most telepaths could only receive or send over a distance of a few metres and some could not extend their ability beyond the touch of their physical hand. A highly talented few were graced with the Long Ear and these rare individuals could contact a specific person on the opposite side of the planet and exchange information accurately. Amid these rare individuals one in perhaps a hundred could utilize their ability to reach beyond the Earth and out to the colonies.

Zechs Marquise had already proven himself capable of reaching around the planet and conveying accurate information to his contacts. The object of this exercise was to officially log Marquise as a planetary grade telepath and have him perform an initial push beyond the confines of the planet. They would learn in the next few minutes if Marquise was capable of that supremely long push out into space toward the moon and contact target specific individuals on the colonies. Though this was only an initial attempt and, should he fail there would be other attempts to determine his range, it would give them some indication of his strength over extended distances.

To reach out to the colonies with his telepathic talent was only one of the requirements for the coveted Prime's ranking. Incredible distances separated the skill levels and potential of telepaths. From being able to read thoughts only with the medium of a physical touch, to being able to reach out to the Moon and beyond designated the potential and set levels to the talent of a telepath.

To date Treize was aware of only twenty two registered telepaths with talent sufficiently strong and sensitive enough to enable them to contact the colonies. Nine of those twenty two individuals were the Prime Telepathic Empaths who included Gabriella and Treize in their ranks. Two of the nine T/E Primes could reach all the way to L5, to date the furthest settled colony cluster. In addition to the nine T/E Primes there were eight individuals who had achieved Prime Telepath ratings and were registered as being capable of reaching to the L5 cluster, making a total of ten persons capable of communicating across the full reach of the Earth Sphere.

Telepaths were in demand, being much sought after to speed confidential communications throughout the ESUN. With Marquise nearing that all important Prime status and an additional two individuals with the potential to be Telepathic Primes undergoing training at the Psychic Institute, the ESUN government would be eager to strengthen and secure their communications lines. The training and development of the two budding telepathic Primes was being closely monitored and had been for seven years. This monitoring was being done not only by the government but also by the telepathic Primes already registered. Following this visit by Gabriella to Tsuberov, Marquise's progress would be just as avidly monitored.

The mysterious Guardian who had sought to maintain a monopoly on the young man by keeping his existence under the radar, was not likely to be a happy individual once the word circulated and questions were asked.

"Target nine has been acquired. Confirmation of contact is logged into the computer record. Details of the conveyance of information is read as having an accuracy of one hundred percent."

Gabriella smirked and Treize felt her satisfaction as a warmly banked glow. She was projecting for him and though one of the technicians present was a low level empath and the Supervisor was a mid range telepath and low range empath, neither of them would sense the communication between the Primes. The Dean had basically closed himself off behind his implant, but he would have had little chance of being aware of their link. Treize and Gabriella were more than capable of guarding their more private conversations from eavesdroppers, be it through the medium of telepathic communion or more basic emotional responses.

It was an automatic response for him to respond to her by extending his awareness out toward her and accepting her invitation to link. What he did not expect was to find he was not alone within the protection of her mind. There was no mistaking the bright, alluring beacon luxuriating in the warmth of her awareness. The presence of the younger man who so intrigued him at their earlier contact greeted him shyly and further enthralled him, even as Treize felt the protection of Gabriella's shields enclose him.

_Your Grace._

The greeting was low, almost a throbbing purr of content and he could understand why. Marquise was luxuriating in the enfolding warmth of Gabriella's focused awareness and Treize could not blame him. This was mother Gabriella and for someone who had long been denied the focus of a mother's warmth, it was everything one could desire.

Treize knew from personal experience just how captivating Gabriella could be, having fallen into her mothering without a thought. He in his turn had grasped at what had been denied him by the early death of his mother and he could not fault Marquise for succumbing to her now. It was, given what Treize knew of Marquise's past, entirely possible Marquise had never experienced anything to compare with being the focus of attention from Gabriella's mothering heart.

Every boy, Gabriella had once told him, craved his mother's love and when such love was offered honestly they luxuriated within its warmth. He could not deny his own reaction to her acceptance of him and the comfort he had found when he had needed it most. When Gabriella chose you and determined you were worth her love, there was no greater pleasure than to nestle within it.

Gabriella in mother mode was as alluring and desirable as Gabriella in high dungeon was to be avoided at all costs.

Gabriella's pleasure pervaded the ether about them and her mind flushed warmer with the flavour of her content. He could feel phantom arms enfolding him, drawing him in closer and drawing in that other awareness, cocooning them within the glow of her talent.

_As is only polite Gabriella has introduced herself, Naughty Boy. Be knowing you should be I find this one has exemplary manners, unlike certain other of my Boys._

Had he been aware of his flesh form he would have been blushing at the teasing quality of her thought and the embarrassment experienced as Marquise's flavour, centred so close to him, flushed with amusement. With Gabriella surrounding them he need not fear anyone condemning him for contacting the younger man and he could react more openly, more honestly, provided he guarded that deeper, purely physical reaction to his undeniable attraction.

_This one I am finding pleases Gabriella._

Treize had the distinct pleasure of experiencing the younger man blush in turn; a warm flush of sensation pervaded the contact he shared, a rush of sensation he equated to a rich colour tone nested somewhere between green and blue. He had not previously experienced such a combination of warmth and colour from any contact and wondered if it had something to do with the presence of Gabriella, or if it was something peculiar to Marquise.

So vivid was the contact with Marquise, so clear and pure were the colours his senses registered and sought to portray, that he divorced a part of his awareness from the contact, returning the ties to his body to see through his physical eyes. Flicking his gaze over the monitor stations and taking a precious few seconds to study the technicians, he sought some sign they had detected the Prime's disruption of their test.

The technicians were studying the computer readouts, their individual attentions focused on their various workstations, but he detected no concern from any of them. Inclining his head to better facilitate a decent view of the monitors, he noted thus far there were no readings out of the ordinary to betray their three way communication. Assured beneath Gabriella's protection they would not disrupt the test, Treize returned to the warmth of her mind.

_I am honoured by your interest, Prime Gabriella_.

Drawn back into the warmth Treize left his physical shell to the control of that portion of his mind which enabled him to function on a basic level as he worked. He could be assured he would not slump in his seat and drool like a mindless idiot, or sprawl his six foot frame all over the floor. He had learned to control his physical functions with a modicum of awareness when using his talent early in his psi education. It was a lesson all Psi's were required to learn in their basic lessons.

Marquise's awareness within Gabriella's perceptions and viewed through Treize's talent left him somewhat astounded by the clarity and purity of the colour field. Treize was to be forever bound by how he viewed the world; colour, taste, touch, smell, these made up his methods of interpreting what his Psi senses touched.

_Asking why should Gabriella not be interested I am? Is true, is not? Soon you taking a place will be amongst we who are Prime?_

_I am hoping to. If I pass the protocols involved in becoming a Prime._

Treize caught the momentary doubt from Marquise; it flickered through the warmth that was Gabriella. It was vaguely orange to him, a hesitation, an uncertainty. In response the purely Psi warmth surrounding them increased and he had the impression Gabriella caressed and comforted the younger man. Treize felt the comfort extended as a warmly banked glow, as though a low banked fire was stirred by a breath of air to generate a little more heat and he felt the bracing surety of confidence she intended reaching out. It was a response designed to baluster confidence and smother the doubt of one who had had cause to doubt too often.

He could only wonder as to Marquise's initial reaction to the presence of the Gypsy Prime as she had sought out his perceptions. It was considered poor form to interrupt a working session unless there was a dire need, but Gabriella was Gabriella and in her view laws did not apply to her. He could recall no flicker in the graph monitors to suggest when the contact might have initiated and the young man had not squeaked in terror and bolted from the laboratory. He should have had more faith Gabriella would handle the contact with tact, but could she not have waited until the session was over?

_Gabriella is seeing no reason for you not to be succeeding. Observed much have I and dabbled in many places silly Tsuberov protocol says one must not go. This is thing Gabriella will not tolerate, this locking up of records. What are records for other than to be read I am asking myself? Is stupid rule and Gabriella must know the mettle of those who working with her will be. Know you should more than enough grunt of the mind you have, in all the places grunt counts most, to be accorded status of Prime ranking._

He felt Marquise freeze at the suggestion Gabriella had raided the Tsuberov records and Treize certainly would not put such dabbling past the woman. If you had the audacity to tell Gabriella she could not do something, you assured she would go out of her way to spite you. The woman, he suspected, had more than sufficient influence to be spared any backlash her investigating in sealed records might have earned. He had already decided it was safest not to underestimate how highly placed in the ESUN structure she was.

He had to wonder what it was she might have found in those records and if she now knew who the Guardian of Record for Marquise was.

_Minding the work session now you should be. Sit back we will and smirk at technicians running tests of useless nature. Gabriella is assured of Sweetling's talent to stand with Prime's. Not to do, I am thinking, to have techy types moaning about disrupted procedures and sure am I you would not be eager to start over from beginning._

The regret Marquise felt at the admonishment to return to the test flavoured the psychic ether, a subdued brown shot through with rosy highlights. Treize was uncertain how to greet his interpretations of Marquise's thoughts and moods. He had never before been so colour oriented and the exact shades he was interpreting left him somewhat staggered.

_Thank you, Prime Gabriella, for coming to Tsuberov. Your Grace._

Marquise was more than reluctant to drop the contact between them and Treize wished they dared entertain the notion of maintaining the link longer than this micro second which might have been a small eternity. With Gabriella initiating the link no one could blame him for improper behaviour due to his sexual orientation and he wanted more contact with the younger man.

Treize felt the extremely gentle push Gabriella exerted to turn the young man's attention back to the task assigned to him. There was no hint in that push to suggest the Prime no longer wished to maintain contact; the exact opposite impression was attained. There was a warmth and suggestion within it, that suggested Gabriella wanted the opportunity to spend quality time getting to know this man.

He was not the only one it seemed, to have acquired a fascination for the budding talent. Their reasons might differ and Gabriella would have priority, but that was not, to him, of concern. His interest would, of necessity, be fulfilled in the future. There were priorities which must be met on both their parts before he might entertain the notion of seeking something more from Zechs Marquise. If there could ever be anything between them it would lie in the future, when they were both independent of the influence of others and free to pursue something intensely personal.

_Gabriella will be watching, of this you might be sure. Found you I have and not to be letting go will I be._

The entire exchange between their three minds had taken only a few seconds. Coming back to his solo awareness Treize caste a watchful eye over the readouts of the monitoring stations and he noted the barest flicker on a graph. An ever attentive technician marked it, frowning and reached out to make a notation on the graph to ensure it was investigated and discussed after the session.

_Saw I did_. Gabriella, to the casual observer, remained focused on the view of the working laboratory. _Gabriella is impressed with sensitivity of equipment used in Tsuberov. Expect them to pick up on our exchange one did not and it will be interesting to see them discuss cause of wiggle.. Gabriella will be interested fly on wall to their discussion and assessment of session._

Treize watched in silence as the graph with the tell tale wiggle cycled out of view. His concerns were somewhat different than his fellow Primes, though he knew Gabriella well enough to know she would not have Marquise blamed for the incident.

_It is feasible they might use it to hold his training back. An unexplained anomaly, no matter how small, must be investigated and they would hesitate to certify him a Prime with an unexplained response on the records._

His concern was dismissed with a mental snort and Gabriella's mental touch sent a warm rush through him, the impression of a finger lightly caressing his cheek lingered, as did the warmth of her attention. This was a far cry from the woman who had terrorised the Agency earlier in the day and taken him to task over his tattered shields.

_Worrying too much about pretty blonde are you. Be assured you can be Gabriella will speak up and be admitting to establishing contact at point marked by wiggle. Gabriella wishes to test their evaluation process and fairness. Be seeing we will if owning up to lapse in protocols will be necessary._

_They will be thinking all Prime telepathic empaths are an ill mannered boorish lot, with no respect for protocol._

Gabriella's amusement warmed him. _Is not far from truth, yes? You will be keeping watch on monitors for Gabriella. I must be knowing how easily he reaches beyond planet._

Treize resisted the urge to flick his gaze to her, suddenly worried at the interest he sensed. If Gabriella was so interested in the range and reach of Marquise's talent, then her reasons bore consideration. If he had a hope in hell of pursuing a personal tie to Marquise at a later time, he would need to know where to find the younger man and the sudden fear Gabriella would see him posted to the furthest outpost of the ESUN prompted him to pursue the matter with her.

_Why?_

_This is something my Naughty Boy will learn in time._ Her amusement and exasperation with him carried through her mental flavour. _Thought it was you understood Gabriella is law unto herself, I did. Stated such many times in past you have, always might add, when thinking Gabriella's ear not tuned to you. _

He was sure a slow blush of red was creeping up from his collar, but he maintained his indifferent air with aplomb and hoped no one noticed. He was certainly not fool enough to respond to her goading. Gabriella had had quite enough amusement at his expense for one day.

_Trust, Khushrenada. This you must be having for Gabriella and disappointed you will not be._

"Earth contact ten acknowledges successful link in. Information pack received with one hundred percent accuracy confirmed. Earth sequence complete. Subject is holding links to all ten target agents steady. Indicators are acceptable across the board."

Treize dragged his attention back to the task at hand and the Supervisor who was making notations once more on his palm pad. He was as curious as Gabriella to know how strong their prospective Prime might be. As one of the two Primes who could reach out to L5, Treize knew the strains of initiating and maintaining long distance contact over long periods of time. This exercise would be a good test of his capabilities.

The Supervisor completed making his notations and moved from station to station, consulting the data readouts, noting each reading individually before he leaned toward a microphone.

"Earth test complete, Mr. Marquise. Maintain links to agents three, five, seven and nine. Sever links to agents one, two, four, six, eight and ten."

Treize watched, his memories of such exercises rising fresh in his mind. It was not so long ago he had been seated in a similar chair, reaching out with his telepathic awareness to targets designated by various symbols at the beginning of the session. When he had first begun his training such contact had appeared to be impossible, but now he could flick his awareness across the planet at a whim, or send his thoughts spearing out to the colonies without breaking a sweat.

_Gabriella is most pleased with this one. Economical with his energy he is. Quite efficient. _Gabriella noted with obvious approval.

Reading the graphs Treize could only agree. Marquise was extremely economical with his personal energies, conserving as much as possible by using sufficient resources as was required to do the assigned task and no more. Efficiency was a good thing for a telepathic empath to entertain. It was probable this young man, in due time, would be able to maintain a full day's work at Prime level without exhausting himself.

"Confirmation of terminated links to agents one, two, four, six, eight and ten. Overall time for link termination; two point five seconds."

/Impressive./ Treize mused. /The more I learn of him the more I have to wonder what his Guardian is planning. He is neat, economical and thorough. Anyone would be willing to set a high price for his services./

"All readouts are within acceptable parameters."

The Supervisor was busy with his notes once more, engaged in assessing the data with a critical eye and seeking any indication of stress before he turned back to the microphone.

"Mr. Marquise, we will begin the extended test. Maintain links with agents five and seven, sever links with agents three and nine. Your target colony is L1 08379. You are to search out agent beta three. Repeat the identification; beta three. Your target insignia is a Phoenix."

Gabriella stirred, running a knowledgeable glance over the monitors before returning her attention to the blonde in the laboratory below. He had not so much as twitched and Treize could see his breathing maintained that calm and even pace they knew so well amid working Psi's.

"Acknowledgement received of terminated links to agents three and nine. Total time for operational directive stage one; one point two zero seconds."

"Pulse is steady, respiration steady. Alpha line showing rising curve. Theta and Omega indicators within acceptable levels."

Treize forced himself to resist the temptation to reach out and link his awareness with that of the younger man now throwing his awareness out into the cold depths of space. Zechs needed to focus his awareness and project outward, seeking to locate the bright beacon of life that was the L1 colony cluster. Having first located the cluster of habitats he would then need to isolate from the general cluster the one colony he was to target. Once that colony was located he would need to isolate the one mind projecting the image of a Phoenix he was assigned to contact.

It was no easy thing to do, this targeting of a single awareness. One solitary individuals mind must be identified amid the four million odd souls inhabiting the colony. When he located that particular target individual, he was required to establish a secure link and transfer pre determined information directly into the brain of the individual.

Treize was concentrating on every minute flicker in the graphics read out, but sensed the approval emanating from Gabriella a full two seconds before the technician registered the momentary flicker in the readouts and marked the point at which contact was established. Gabriella, it seemed, had done what he determined he would not do, namely followed along behind the younger man as he sought out his target.

He had not wished to chance distracting Marquise from his assignment, they had already compromised his assessment after all. Gabriella, with her usual independence and seeming disregard for protocol, had made a different decision.

_Well done, well done indeed._

Her warm thoughts of approval were shared with Treize as a matter of course and there was no hint of concern she might have interfered to Marquise's detriment. As she had so often said, Gabriella did not make mistakes.

_Gabriella beyond doubt will be claiming this one to sit beneath the protection of her wing. Company will you be having in pride of place, my Naughty Boy._

He resisted the temptation to roll his eyes and squashed all thought before Gabriella might descend on him with vengeful force. He really did love her, dramatics and all. He only hoped no one suspected she had not left the young man to perform his task alone.

_Not interfere did Gabriella. Know better you should. Watch, this only did Gabriella do and well worth watching was he. Good sense of direction he has and exercise logic to locate his assignment he did._

On one monitor station a red light flashed in a coded sequence and the monitoring technician entered the time into the records, failing to hide his surprise at the time frame.

"Confirmation of contact with L1 target Phoenix. Link is holding and confirmed as being established and open."

"Pulse and respiration of subject are within acceptable parameters. Alpha through Omega readouts are steady. "

The Supervisor made his obligatory notations and after a moment of studying the information received he reached for the microphone.

"Mr. Marquise, we are go for sequence two of the exercise. You may transmit the specimen data to target Phoenix. Encoded information is now being channelled to your monitor station."

In the room below long delicate fingers flicked over the monitors and for all of three seconds the crystal blue eyes flicked over the receiving data, before hiding once more behind long pale lashes.

"Alpha spike. Acceptable level. Lesser Theta response, also acceptable." The technician nearest to Treize reached to mark the spikes on the graph with a coded number sequence. "Readings are steady."

"Vital signs within acceptable range. No distress indicated." The third technician reported.

Gabriella's content came across to Treize through their bonding link and he read her content as he would have registered a cat purring with pleasure.

_Handling this well he is. Gabriella is most pleased. This one will quickly build stamina and doubting I am not he will reach L5 with training. An asset he will be to the Prime focus._

Treize knew his eyes widened and betrayed him, but all eyes were on the monitors and relays and he thankfully escaped their notice. Gabriella, of course, was aware of his reaction, glancing at him and winking with the smallest of smirks to acknowledge his surprise before returning her attention to the viewing window.

She was going to leave it at that? Treize caught himself before he could open his mouth to protest and smoothed the beginnings of a scowl from his face. What passed between he and Gabriella was for they alone to know.

_Come on, Gabriella, you can't leave me with that and no more. What Prime focus? What the hell is going on you are not telling me?_

Dark eyes glinted with unholy amusement for all of two seconds before Gabriella dismissed physical reality from their interaction. Her mind flicked over his, much as a parent might lightly smack a toddler's fingers to deter them from reaching into a dangerous situation.

_Pfftt! Who is it needing to learn to mind his manners, Naughty Boy? Always is there place in time when all must be revealed. Patience is therefore not only virtue but necessity. Be knowing this is neither time nor place for the knowing. Have patience, Naughtiest of Naughty Boys. Gabriella will be sure to reveal all.'_ Dark eyes sparkled with evil amusement. _When appropriate time comes, of course._

/Infuriating gypsy bitch!/

Behind his shields he was safe enough in daring to think such thoughts, even with his weakened shields. Gabriella would expect him to do some very private growling about her high handed methods; indeed she would be insulted if he did not. She was singularly unique and there were times he could cheerfully strangle her.

/ She's undoubtedly enjoying this. What do I do? What can I do? All of the cards are in her hands and at this stage I have to wonder if I have done the right thing by Marquise. I've inadvertently roped him into whatever game she is playing./

The more he thought about what he had learned this evening, the more convinced he was that there were great changes afoot within the ESUN. Changes in which Gabriella, the supreme manipulator of men in powerful positions, intended the Prime's to feature strongly.

/There is far more going on here than I initially thought. By reacting to Chang as I did, I have brought her attention back to me and to the unfortunate innocents at Tsuberov. Not just Marquise, but also others engaged in studying here. She displayed great interest in the Winner heir and his potential as a Prime. Whose records has she dabble in, I wonder? What are you up to, Gabriella?/

Quatre Winner had the backing of his family's massively influential company to protect him from her machinations, and if anyone stood a chance of denying Gabriella it was The Winner. How many other potential Prime, or near Prime, talents was Tsuberov sheltering at this time? How many others within the Universities precincts had had their exact potential covered up? Why was this deception taking place? Who was involved in the operation and exactly what were they planning to do with the talented in their grasp?

His only clue as to the machinations of his fellow Prime had been offered up in a comment as an aside. Had she intentionally dropped the clue, or had she not realized it to be a clue? Not that it would assist him in determining her intentions if he could not puzzle out its meaning.

/Prime focus, she said? What does she mean by Prime focus? It has something to do with government sanctions for the testing of every child in the Earth Sphere I expect. They will be announcing this testing procedure later this week and I want to see that announcement. It might give me some insight as to what they are planning. Prime focus suggests a merging. Prime's in our field could get away with some sort of merge, though ego clash would have to be considered and I don't know of a single Prime who would not have a problem sublimating their ego to another. What games are they playing with our lives?/

The unassailable fact was he was a junior Prime. Before Marquise had come to their attention he was the youngest of them, the baby of the group; to be coddled and protected by all of the others. He had not particularly enjoyed that status, but he could not refute the differences in age between he and the other Primes. He was more than eighteen years younger than the youngest of the individuals to make the ranking of Prime as a telepathic empath.

He was young, but one thing he was not was a fool and he came from a family steeped in centuries of scheming and politics. He could smell conspiracy in the air he breathed and inadvertently he had brought Marquise into it. He had brought him to the attention of the older Prime's and whatever they were scheming he had an obligation to the younger man he could not ignore. It was his duty to protect Zechs Marquise to the best of his abilities, even against those who were best suited to help the young man.

Treize had never been a particularly trusting soul; he had not been reared to trust unconditionally. He had thought he had found in Gabriella someone in whom he could trust and he was not enjoying the day's revelations. He was feeling betrayed and used and Kushrenada's did not like to be used. He had been aware for some time Gabriella had been determined to increase both the profile and rights of the Psi's employed within the Earth Sphere.

Many people bereft of Psi ability feared the emergent Psi society and abuse of Psi's, particularly amidst the lower level psychics, was not unknown. Opponents to the proposed Psychic Bill were vocal and there had been instances of violence targeted against psychics who could not defend themselves. He agreed something needed to be done to counter the building tensions, but he was not of a mind to be a part of a revolution.

He made no effort to disguise the assessing nature of the look he directed toward her. No one was currently paying them attention and he did not need to explain one enigmatic look to anyone. He was a Prime and for once he would have no qualms about playing on that mystique should anyone notice the byplay between himself and Gabriella.

Her dark eyes danced with no small amusement and the warmth of her mind enfolded his in the equivalent of a fond physical hug. Gabriella appeared not to be concerned with the suspicion with which he viewed her.

_Trust, my Treize. Khushrenada are you and once upon a time the H in that stood for much heart. Why is it lately this bloodline of yours is dropping the H, hmmm? Khushrenada is good, why now Kushrenada? Pfftt. No matter it is. You are Khushrenada to the heart; loyal and alert and warned now are you to how the world will turn. Learn to trust in Gabriella you must for the best intentions have I for the Aware within this heart of hearts. Be assured what it was Gabriella survived in her youth will not be visited upon another generation, if Gabriella is has anything to say about it.'_ The dark eyes glinted, hard as granite. _And Gabriella has big mouth, long reach and fierce determination._

"Coded sequence received from L1 08379. Transfer of data is complete and checks confirm accurate transfer of test information."

He dragged his awareness back to the test, refraining from assuring her of his trust and knowing she would accept the distance between them. For the moment at least. Above all Gabriella had been fair with him and would not blame him for stepping back from her following the revelations of the evening. She would expect him to be wary and watchful and he wondered if that was not exactly why she had acted as she had. In the course of a few minutes Gabriella had alerted him to change coming in the natural order of society.

Forewarned he was forearmed.

"Physical statistics of the test subject are in the green range across the board. No indication of physical distress, no indication of psychic strain."

"Time for transfer of information packet to target subject adjusted for time lag to destination, is five point three zero nine seconds."

/That is more than a respectable time for a transfer of information to the L1 colony cluster. He's good./

Gabriella nodded; a small movement of approval and extended a probe to Treize, tightening the range and depth of the send to be assured only her fellow Prime would read her. Her confidence came across to him as a warm beacon of approval and there was no reproach for his wariness.

_I am most assuredly liking this one you are finding for us. He is naturally quick and efficient. Hurry himself to appear more apt than he naturally is he does not, and this I am particularly liking. Too often I am finding those with promise push too hard. Push, push, push. They are told to extend themselves; push and improve. Pleased I am not to find this mentality of push at Tsuberov. School for rich idiots has done something right with training of Psi. Gabriella is pleased with her visit.'_

She looked it too and she generated her pleasure on the psychic level, a warm flush of content rolling out to enfold him. Gabriella was more than content with how the events of the evening had played out and Treize was more concerned than ever. He honestly did not know if he had done right by Marquise or Quatre Winner by bringing her here.

_So you are ready to leave now_?

If he could get her away from the University he might feel a little better, particularly if he could weasel a little more information out of her. Of that he was not confident, but she would not want him worrying himself to distraction with already stressed shields and she might be a little more forthcoming with information to calm him down. Or, more likely, she might deliver a psychic slap to his ears to wake him from his near hysteria and over blown paranoia.

_Certainly not.'_

Her grin was innocence personified and he noted absently how the Dean flinched. No doubt the poor man would be afraid of what other calamity Gabriella might bring to his door. Her visit to Tsuberov would not soon be forgotten.

_Gabriella is wishing to be formally introduced to my Sexy Boy with the pretty blue eyes_.

/Oh God! She can't have christened him that!/ Horror widened his eyes and his head snapped around to face her, unmindful of the technicians and Dean. /She can't!/

Oh she looked smug, smirking at him as she did, dark eyes afire with amusement and he dared not comment. She would have a rejoinder all ready to fling at him if he bit and he would not bite. Her amusement lifted, he could feel it rolling from her in merry bubbling waves of palest gold and it felt to him how chocolate tasted, melting on his tongue.

Would he ever win against this terrible old woman?

_Needing to assess the calories Sexy Eyes has expended in this work session I do. Reaching to colonies is good test of calorie efficiency, not just telepathy. Full assessment is required of his skill, including assessment of physical needs. Leave Tsuberov I will not be, until monitored him I have through recovery. This one Gabriella is able to be mother to and wishing to see him safely tucked in bed for the night I am._

He could only hope she meant that figuratively. A mental vision of the Gypsy Prime insisting on tucking the younger man into bed swum before his eyes and he could feel his jaw begin to sag. It would be close to see who died of embarrassment first, he or Marquise.

_Khushrenada will mind Gabriella now and find this hunter of young men with very sick mind. Gabriella knows not if our Six is sick one's target, or if it is Bright Eyes or the third of the group who is targeted. Whoever it be, sick one requires governing soonest. Restraint I am thinking would be best, desirable certainly; but Gabriella is not doubting it might be too late. If this is so, then restraint must be abandoned. It will be mercy to him to make one cut only. _

Restraint, Treize knew, was infinitely preferable in dealing with this rogue Psi. He was not a fool and he knew what would be required if it was too late to help the individual who had, he was sure, already killed. He was sure it was the stalker who had killed this unknown intruder into the suite and he must not forget they still needed to identify the dead man.

There was more than one mystery at Tsuberov to be solved.

It was no pleasant thought to contemplate the need that another might die before this case was concluded. If they could not restrain and contain the awakening talents of the Stalker then there was only the one option available. Controlled, maintained and trained to a safe level of operations the individual could be a great asset to the ESUN. The alternative, a true rogue psi, was unthinkable.

Sometimes, for the greater good, one must die.

An out of control super psychic could not be tolerated.

t.b.c.

Karina Robertson 2008

——————————

Notes:

Treize Kushrenada : Level 10 Sending/Receiving Telepath + Receiving and Projecting Empath at Level 10. Prime rated. Agency Operative contracted term of 5 years with 2 years remaining. 25yrs of age Training facility: Psychic Institute Munich Division.

Gabriella : Romany descent. Level 10 Sending / Receiving Telepath + Level 10 Receiving and Projecting Empath. Prime Rated. Training facility rumored to be Government Laboratories of the Prussian Republic deposed in the year AC 45. Age: Unknown rumored to be approximately seventy four. Oldest of the Prime Telepathic Empaths.

Dean Alexander Hargraves: Dean at Tsuberov University and Parapsychic Institute. Neural Implant. Sending / Receiving Telepath Level 3

Zechs Marquise: Psi Student 5th year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Level 10 Receiving/Projecting Empath approaching Prime Designation + Level 9 Sending /Receiving Telepath, Projected L10 function. Finder function suspected, not officially registered. Country of origin, Luxemburg. 20 years of age

--

This is the last of the Agency chapter's pre written and prepared for posting. Like Alternatives it will take upwards of 6 to 8 weeks sometimes a little more, sometimes a little less, depending on real life between chapters for me to get a finished chapter to you. I do hope you will continue to read and enjoy the story and be assured, it will continue.

I'm now working on the next Agency chapter so the next one will be sooner rather than later.

For those of you who have been following Alternatives, the next chapter has been written, it is currently with my beta, so hopefully it will not be too long before I can post it.

Karina


	24. Chapter 24

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 24/

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 24/??

Many thanks to ShenLong Deb for betaing this chapter.

Chapter Twenty Four

He was uncertain what Marquise thought of Gabriella. Treize was well aware the younger man was hyper sensitive of the people surrounding them at the conclusion of his work session, and of the need for discretion. Whatever Marquise was thinking there was no leakage from his shields to betray their previous contact.

The Agency Prime was fairly certain he could say, with a high degree of accuracy, what it was the Dean had come to think of the Gypsy Prime. The man would be only too happy to see her depart from his domain. Gabriella had, from the outset, disturbed Hargraves' peace of mind, forcing him to reassess his preconceived and comfortable notions of the world. She had revealed how little he knew of the forthcoming world they were shaping and he would view that as an inadequacy within himself.

Hargraves, not just Treize, had been forced to acknowledge change was coming and would shape their comfortable, and short sighted, view of normality. Preconceived notions of the future direction of the University must now be reassessed and modified to better fit the new world order.

Gabriella had not just hinted at change to come, she had spelled out those changes in somewhat graphic detail, leaving them to flounder and wonder at what she had not revealed.

And Treize, knowing the Gypsy Prime as he did, knew Gabriella never revealed all of the cards in her hand.

The conclusion of the work sessions had culminated in a successful assessment of the young man's still developing Psychic potential. Marquise would undoubtedly be certified for planetary grade telepathy, and an initial note of his pre-assessment exercise for inter colony communication would be included in that assessment. His projected range beyond the planet would add considerable credit value to his future contract. Gabriella's assessment of Marquise being capable of reaching out to L5 was known only to Treize and he knew enough of her past accuracy at determining such things to trust her judgement.

Initially Treize had been concerned Marquise would give away their interference in the session at their official meeting, but such concern had proven unfounded. In the presence of the Dean and his supervisor Zechs Marquise was the epitome of the psychic gentleman. He was quiet, controlled and accepting of the feather light touch Gabriella had offered, Psi to Psi.

The Dean had handled the formal introductions quickly and efficiently, expecting Gabriella to make a few comments, perhaps ask a question or two, concerning Marquise's satisfaction with the working conditions at Tsuberov. The man had been visibly horrified at being informed by Gabriella that she intended to supervise the young Psi's recovery from the session.

Horrified, but accepting of the inevitable. The man had learned quickly, as had Treize, that it was easier not to argue. After all, in the end Gabriella always won.

Taking a few minutes to confer with the session Controller on Marquise's diet plan, and following due consideration approving it, Gabriella had breached every rule of Psi etiquette by tucking the young man's arm through her own. With an inclination of her head to the Dean and the suggestion he lead the way, she proceeded to follow at a casual saunter to chatter about inane trivialities and escort Marquise to the recovery room.

Resigned to having the Prime linger at the University, the Dean had escorted them to the room where Marquise would be monitored. The room was a rather relaxing lounge, furnished with an overstuffed couch and two matching armchairs, a table and four chairs and a relaxing photo print of a tropical beach and aqua blue ocean on the far wall. The walls were painted in soothing tones and the carpet was pale beige, neutral, as was the colour of the couch and chairs. The entire room was designed not to jar the physical senses of a person fresh from an extensive work session.

Wasting no time, Gabriella informed the young Psi he should seat himself at the table and his meal would be along directly. Ignoring the hovering Dean, Gabriella seated herself at the table and centred a glare on the Supervisor, looking pointedly at the empty table. To Treize's relief a calorie rich meal was delivered before the woman could make any comment on tardiness.

Working psi's were monitored for up to four hours following a work session, the exact time depending on the duration and level of the work required. During this period the Psychics vital statistics; pulse and respiration, blood pressure and temperature were monitored and recorded. Whether it was a training session, as this had been, or a full working session for a privately contracted psi such as Treize himself, the recovery session was required to ensure the health of the Psi.

Gabriella's focus, Treize could see, was on the younger man who did little more than pick at the meal set before him. This meal was specifically designed to replace the lost calories used in the session. Treize was far from surprised Marquise appeared to lack appetite, even following so extensive a session. Many psi's came from deep level work with appetites that could strip a well stocked larder, there were just as many psi's who felt ill at the sight of food.

It was clear Zechs Marquise was one of the latter and though his stomach threatened to revolt with each bite, the young man was well aware he needed to replace lost calories.

"Tsk. No good this is. Eating to satisfy Gabriella you will, before sleep you might. Having breakfast sent to your room Gabriella will, so assured one is recoup calories you do."

"Yes, Ma'am."

It was plain to them all Marquise really did not feel like eating, but beneath the pressure of those dark eyes there was no escaping. Treize knew from personal experience that if Marquise wished to be treated as a professional, he must BE a professional. Queasy stomach aside, he had to replace his energy.

The unexpected appearance of two Primes in his own talents field at the working session and their entry into his life, was a golden opportunity for him to escape from what had to be feeling more and more like a trap encircling him. He had struck Treize as being an intelligent young man and he would recognize that Gabriella and Treize could represent an assurance he would not have to face a future position he honestly did not want.

For his part, Zechs was well aware by this stage of his training he should have been inundated with offers for his future services. The lack of invitations for him to communicate with any company, or private individual who sought to take up a contract with him, boded ill for him having any personal input into his future. He had been entertaining troubling dreams recently of a shadowy figure, his benefactor he assumed, throwing him to a pit full of lions.

To his shame as a professional psychic he had entertained thoughts of blatant misuse of his talent. Trying his hand at stripping aside the Headmaster's shielding and taking the knowledge of his Guardian's identity had become a particularly disturbing fantasy. Such abuse of a person's mind was not only a breach of etiquette, but also one of the greatest crimes a telepath could perform.

"Picks at his food this one does, like delicate hoity toity lady of nobility," Gabriella turned her gaze from the wide eyed young male to Treize and sniffed. "Is opposite, this one. Wolf food down like starved infant he is. Need to keep both under my eyes I will, to make certain one is not skinny rake and other does not blimp like balloon."

Crystal blue eyes widened and turned to met resigned, but amused, sapphire blue and Treize smirked, not daring to look at the Dean or the Supervisor. He suspected if he did he would break down into laughter, which was extremely unbecoming of his position as a Prime.

Gabriella would have a few more words to say to him if he did and that was something he was intending to avoid at all costs.

"You get used to it after a while." He permitted himself a smile and the ghost of a wink. "Nothing and no one is sacred to Gabriella."

"Good health and well being, these are sacred to Gabriella," the gypsy retorted. "If Gabriella does not see to matters, then it is nothing which will be done. Talent is exploited and enough is enough says Gabriella. Had my fill of idiots who profess to know all and yes, Naughty Boy, well aware am I that Gabriella may be biggest idiot of all."

Treize blinked in astonishment at the small dark woman. "I never said or thought such a thing!"

"Pffftt!" A dismissive wiggle of fingers and a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice was pushed toward the blonde. "Gabriella is knowing your thoughts before think them you can. Drinking, you do this thing for Gabriella, yes?"

"Yes, Ma'am." Blue eyes, wider than they normally would be, flicked once again to the tall Prime seated at the table, begging some sort of aid.

All he could do was motion to the glass and roll his eyes, offering a small smile. Marquise would learn, as did everyone who associated with her, that Gabriella was to be obeyed. It was just so much easier that way.

The door opening distracted them all and a technician Treize recognized from the work session nodded to the Supervisor, stepping back outside. The Supervisor and the Dean excused themselves and left the room, closing the door in their wake and the Gypsy Prime rose immediately with fire in her eyes.

"Half food gone when coming back I am is what I will to see." Dark eyes shifted from Marquise to Treize. "Help a little you might, but not enough to fatten trim waistline. Gabriella is having a few words to say best said out of delicate hearing."

Treize inclined his head, watching as the short, plump woman made her way to the door, throwing it open and striding through. He caught a glimpse of the Dean's startled face before the door swung closed and he leaned back in his seat with a slow sigh, relaxing.

If the technician thought to discuss any of the session privately, then Treize wished them well with their attempt. They had not even begun to scratch the surface of the Gabriella he knew and if they thought they could keep any details from her, then he wished them well trying to keep the data out of her hands.

Their attempt did, however, mean he was granted a few minutes alone with the soon to be accredited Prime.

For his part, Zechs watched the woman depart with wide eyes, finally turning to Treize and motioning toward the door. His night had proven to be anything but a standard work session at Tsuberov and he was feeling uncomfortably off balance

"Is she always like that?"

"Mr. Marquise, there are some days when she is utterly impossible. You will find our Gabriella is quite unique, but you can be assured she get things done. We consider her our trouble shooter and I can tell she likes you. I am sorry to have to inform you, that now she has met you and determined she likes what she sees, you will not be free of her attention from now on. I swear the woman has x-ray vision and distance is no impediment to her sight."

The crystal blue eyes flicked back to the closed door and Treize could almost see the thoughts in that pale blonde head. Marquise would be recalling everything he had heard of the Primes in the ESUN and no doubt Gabriella's name would have been mentioned on more than one occasion. There was the more recent meeting of their minds which, given Gabriella was on her best behaviour so as not to spook him, had Treize thinking Marquise had no real comparison between the many facets the woman could present to the world.

"Ah. I'm not sure if I should be honoured or terrified."

Treize had to smirk at the younger man who was rolling the glass of orange juice between his palms and paying not the slightest attention to his meal. He knew Gabriella expected him to distract Marquise and get him to eat without even realizing what it was he was dining on. Some days he wondered what the woman expected of him, other than a miracle every hour, on the hour.

"Both, my friend. Both extremes are equally acceptable when one is dealing with Gabriella."

Zechs took a sip of the juice and sighed, eyeing the plates of food with a gloomy air. "I suppose I will need to eat to escape seeing another side of her." Sudden mischief sparked in his gaze. "Can I ask about the Naughty Boy thing?"

Treize sighed dramatically, hiding the smirk. He knew he could get to like this younger man, even had he not already entertained notions of a far more intimate nature than that of a friend.

"Gabriella will rechristen you. She will give you a name and I am sorry to say it is unavoidable. All you can do is grin and bear it. For some strange reason I found myself saddled with the title 'Naughty Boy' within the first five minutes of making her acquaintance."

He liked the smile and wanted to see more of it. Marquise had a devastating smile and Treize wondered how often he had cause to use it. For an instant he thought the younger man, recalling who it was he was keeping company with, would start apologising because he was amused. He wanted his association with Zechs Marquise to be anything but formal.

"Some have been named within seconds of meeting her, but sometimes it may take her as much as a day or up to three, though such a period of time is most unusual, for her to settle on a means of address she deems suitable. No amount of protest will do more than amuse her. You will receive a name when she feels she has read you sufficiently to determine what suits you best. Of course she will only use this name when she wishes to peeve or embarrass you, though she usually refrains from using pet names in public. If you think Naughty Boy is bad, she calls one of the Kinetic Primes; The Blimp."

Blue eyes danced with amusement. "The Blimp? God, I hope she doesn't call me something horrendous."

Oh, Marquise was in love with Gabriella already. Another smitten and captured as he himself had been caught at an even earlier age than Marquise. He looked younger when he laughed, more relaxed and Treize liked that look.

"I assure you, to our deep despair, we have little influence over her choice. Do eat something. She was serious about you finishing a decent meal."

"Food turns my stomach after a session."

Treize nodded. "I know, so does Gabriella, but she has never let that get in the way of a meal, as her waist line attests to. Please do not tell her I said that. I have made the acquaintance of a number of high level talents who can't face food immediately after working, but they are utterly useless for days after if they don't eat a certain amount after a session. Gabriella, believe it or not, is one."

"She is?"

Treize nodded, motioning to the plates spread across the table.

"Why do you think she is so insistent on you eating? She's been through depletion too many times not to know and, I am sorry to say, she feels obligated to ensure you don't make her past mistakes."

"Ah." After a moment of considering the offerings Marquise reached for a banana. "Is fruit okay? I honestly can't face meat. If I force myself to eat it I will only throw it back up and that will land me in the infirmary for the night."

That had been said with the tired resignation of one who had practical experience. So at one stage Marquise had forced himself to eat meat, or been forced to eat it soon after a working session. Treize filed away that bit of information for later thought.

"So long as you eat a broad selection, and maybe a little cheese, she should leave you be."

Treize watched the young man eat the banana neatly and set the skin aside on the plate before him, before washing it down with some juice.

"Do you have any questions?"

"Too many of them to even know where to begin, " he whispered, fingers absently moving to tuck long strands of hair behind his right ear.

"I sympathize. I went through that stage too. Gabriella appeared one night and, with no effort or assistance from me, my life changed thereafter. For the better, I might add. It was expected that I fulfil familial obligations and forgo my every interest in other matters. Gabriella took my family to task and tucked me firmly beneath her wing. I have been quite content to shelter there ever since."

"What is it exactly that you do?"

An orange was being steadily peeled, dextrous fingers making short work of the skin and breaking the fruit into segments. Treize liberated a Mandarin from the fruit platter and proceeded to peel the skin from it for himself. He suspected Marquise would feel more relaxed if he too ate.

"Aside from being the non working owner of the family corporations, I work for the Agency. We do many things, including criminal investigations, crowd control and making regular assessments of the city's temper."

Pale brows pulled down into a frown. "The city's temper?"

"Empaths of varying levels, not just Prime level, are assigned to certain areas of the city. There we take a sample of the emotional gradients; we test the flavour of the people as they go about their daily business. From these assessment scans we can generally determine if there is trouble brewing and what form that trouble might take. In particular we attempt to determine the cause behind any negative emotions we encounter before there is trouble. The instances of riots have fallen dramatically since the introduction of empaths and telepaths as human barometers. Gang wars too have fallen off as we determine where the hot spots are and enable the police and enforcers to move in before the problem actually erupts into violence."

"That's… fascinating. I've not been told about that use for empathy. It is more general use that Tsuberov teaches."

Treize cut a slab of cheese into sections, placed half before the blonde and the other half at his left hand. He was pleased to see Zechs took one without so much as looking at it and was watching him with an eager glint in his eye. Treize was well aware that in Tsuberov, Psychics received the best of training, but were also sheltered from the real world.

"Courtesy of Gabriella and her inability to accept the words 'no', 'classified', or 'privileged' information, I have seen your records." At Marquise's startled look Treize lifted a hand slightly. "As it happens she has every right to investigate the abilities of an emergent Prime. You will find it never pays to underestimate her and it does little good to argue the point with her. While she finds such entertaining, she has her own ideas and they are unshakable."

"She sounds formidable."

"Oh, she is. Now then, while we are here we need to know where your interests lie. What is it you think you would be happiest doing and where in a working environment you could be content?"

Zechs absently rolled a piece of the cheese around his fingers, a restless movement, one governed by the subconscious and one that spoke to Treize of uncertainty.

"I was under the impression I was to settle for whatever was offered."

"Perhaps that might have been the intention, but I assure you it will not eventuate. By law a Psi must have discussion in any work agreement situation and if you do not feel easy with the options offered, you have full rights to refuse."

He nudged an apple closer to the slender hand resting on the table and Marquise glanced down, reaching for a knife and cutting the fruit into eighths.

"Gabriella has taken an interest in you and be assured she will not be permitting anyone to dictate terms and conditions to you. As of this point, any contractual offers will be required to be approved by her before being presented to you. You are now known to the other Primes in our field and I can tell you from experience, they are all exceedingly parental."

Treize accepted a piece of the apple Marquise offered him, finding it crunchy, juicy and sweet.

"You and I are the youngest of the Primes in our field and as you are aware, our field is considered to be perhaps the most precarious of the Psi sciences. Our elders, but by no means betters, will keep an eye on circumstances surrounding you, and they will ensure you are not being taken for granted or abused in any way. This observation and near obsession by the older Primes has proven to be a necessity."

He had the grace to blush, but he did not mind revealing to Marquise a part of why Gabriella had made such an abrupt appearance. The apple had been eaten and Treize reached for a second, slicing it as Marquise had and offered him the bulk of the fruit, keeping two slices for himself.

"I am sorry to say that Gabriella's presence here is partly due to my blunder. I have permitted my employer to push the bounds of my contract in the last year or so, and my elders had decided such will not continue. They have taken the Agency to task over the abuse of contractual obligations and Gabriella is in the process of overseeing a revision of my contract."

"You are an adult by law. Can she do that?"

"This is Gabriella we are talking about." Treize sighed. "It is so much easier to just nod and hope she goes away quickly. I suppose the best way to think of this situation, is to consider it as older family members keeping a watchful eye out for you."

"I've… not had that. A family I mean. It is going to seem… odd."

Treize could read between the lines well enough to know what was passing through that mind. Marquise was bright enough to know what might happen if events got out of hand.

"You mean invasive?" Treize smiled. "It's alright, I admit I have thought it on more than one occasion myself. You get used to it after a while and in all honesty, it's rather nice to know that someone out there understands and is looking out for you."

"But… well… You are a Duke."

Treize shrugged and offered up a quick smile. "Yes and I have a family who don't want me to forget it. I should be a politician guiding the steps of the ESUN, not chasing criminals around the city like a common policeman. And sitting in an ivory tower isolated from the world and the really important work that needs to be done is a cop out, and unbecoming of a Kushrenada."

At the wide eyed look he received Treize shrugged, perusing the fruit bowl and plucking a few grapes.

"I should be breeding a host of little Kushrenadas for them to raise and introduce into political circles. They are under the impression that is the ideal lifestyle and I personally think it a frightful bore."

"Do you have a large family?"

"It is large enough to be a pain. There are, unfortunately, few relatives I feel comfortable with, which has a great deal to do with my talent and their political passions overflowing. Most disagreeable. I have a daughter whom I adore and hope to see in the next few weeks for more than a few hours. Given my age, and the age of Mariemaia, I suppose I will need to consider having another child by contract soon. That might still the bays of discontent from the family for a while."

"You had your daughter by contract? You are not married then?" He blushed, realising what it was he had asked. Such personal queries were not of his concern and a breach of etiquette. "Sorry. That's…"

"Quite alright. I told you, we Primes must stick together and you will find we know each other quite well. With our particular talents there is little in the way of secrets between any of us. Our number, as far as we are now concerned, includes you."

Did he dare? It was the perfect opportunity to present himself as he was, to be honest and to set the stage for the future. He already suspected Marquise was homosexual and as he had said, between Primes in their elite family there were no secrets.

"I am not married, nor am I likely to be, unless I can find another man who is equally as bound by obligations to breed as I am."

He only hoped Gabriella would not skin him alive and accuse him of planting suggestions in a susceptible mind. Then again, being Gabriella she might just read him the riot act if he did not fess up and reveal his sexuality. She took an inordinate interest in his lack of a sex life after all.

"He would need to be tolerant of the fact that, by contract, I am required to provide heirs to my family and to the psionic genetic pool."

He could see the information turning over in that beautiful blonde head and he knew the exact instant Zechs decided he had heard what he thought he had. Treize waited, patient, wondering if the young man would question him, though he thought Zechs might be a little too shy to be so forward as to make a comment.

"It… it isn't a… problem then? A high level Psi being… being… homosexual?"

/Ah, so someone has led you to believe your homosexuality will be a problem for you? An instructor here at Tsuberov? Or perhaps your Guardian? Well, I can not say I am surprised by the revelation. I basically had this conversation with Trowa after all. Their sex education curriculum requires a drastic overhaul. What the hell are they intending you sign? I want to know what they thought they could get away with before you became known to us./

Treize poured himself a glass of juice and shook his head slightly. He sipped before he met the crystal blue eyes and maintained enough control not to lose himself in their very emotional depths.

"Being homosexual is not a problem at all. According to my family it is a problem, they desire a Duchess and a herd of offspring they can manipulate, but the other Primes are fine with my sexuality. Having children does not mean I have to suffer through what would be a very unsatisfactory encounter for myself, and what ever unfortunate woman they pointed the finger at as being a suitable mate for me. I am free to look for a partner of my choosing. A partner who is mentally as compatible as he is physical. A high level telepath and empath cannot be deceived, and we would know if we were right for each other."

Blue eyes locked with darker blue and it was the blonde head which ducked, taking refuge in lifting the glass of orange juice. Treize sat back, nursing his own glass, more than satisfied. His interest had been marked and understood and there had been the most fleeting of mental touches, the acknowledgement there was interest in return.

For the moment, for both of them, that was enough.

Zechs, as a Telepathic Empath approaching Prime level, understood what a rarity it was to find a mind that was a perfect compliment to his own. It was too early to know if they were suited to each other as Treize suspected they might be; but they had time. It would not be long before Zechs entered the work force as a fully ranked Prime, and when that occurred Treize would make it a point to renew their acquaintance.

Zechs would be accounted a full adult prior to leaving Tsuberov and there would then be no impediment to his looking up the younger man and paying court to him.

/Pay court to him? Yes, I will indeed pay court to this one. He feels… right. I would want so much more than a passing encounter with him. There is something that calls out to me and from that touch, brief as it was, I can not doubt he feels it too. He will need time to find himself in the outside world and I can trust Gabriella to oversee him. When he is settled I can dare to make my interest in him known and pay him court. He must have time to determine it is right for him, but I do want this utterly enchanting creature to be mine./

Perhaps he might delay these annoying thoughts of fulfilling the breeding aspect of his contract. In this modern day of genetic manipulation it was possible for him to have a child with a male partner. An agreeable female to act as surrogate and he could have this blonde's child as his own. Breeding a Prime to a Prime produced talented offspring and, given the nature of their empathic and telepathic talents, there would need to be genetic modification to ensure the child did not become tragically oversensitive.

Given Marquise's talent Treize had no doubt the younger man would find the government would insist on a breeding contract being included in any contract a gay empathic telepath signed. Treize could make that work for them and any child he had with this blonde he would have designated as heir to his family estates and title.

/It is incredibly off putting to find the layers of a woman's mind engaged in everything but the moment of sex. The male mind concentrates solely on the act and the pleasure given and there is not the distraction. It was an incredible turn off for me to receive thoughts on tonight's casserole, cleaning the oven, or the dirty sod who missed the toilet and watered the floor./ He suppressed a shiver. /I know I am pushing a little here, but he need not know. Nothing will happen unless it is by his choice, and then only when I am certain it is what he truly wishes. I will investigate the requirements of such a delicate piece of genetic manipulation to get a child; not a clone, but a natural joining of two males modified to produce the genetic code of a new individual. He feels so right to that part of me that has been too long solitary. It is clear he feels something, but I must remember not to rush. Not to push. I want something far more than merely casual with him./

"I'm… I don't…"

"You are gay?"

Treize smiled, keeping his expression and his voice friendly. He needed to maintain care with every encounter with this young man. There must be no accusations of improper behaviour on his part and he was well aware the young man was vulnerable emotionally.

He could not pick up on it fully, and no doubt Gabriella would have the cheek to explore it more deeply than he dared, but there was something there. Perhaps something from his past, from before the mysterious benefactor took him in hand. Perhaps the 'something' was the rather old fashioned outlook Treize suspected Tsuberov taught their students? Or it might be an unconscious reaction to being stalked?

A worrying possibility, he mused, and one he hoped was not a result of the stalker targeting Zechs, though it was possible. The younger man's talent was enough that he might pick up on some aspect of the Stalker, even should one of the other young men be the target. Empathy could be such a difficult thing to determine, it was not always clear what you picked up on, or what one might be reacting to.

"Yes." A flaring sense of relief flowed from Zechs before the leakage stopped and was replaced by the crystalline purity of his re-established shields. "Yes, I am."

"There is nothing wrong with being homosexual, Zechs. I won't lie, I had hang-ups about it. At the time I was under a great deal of family pressure and in the isolated and proper order of the old noble families of Europe, being gay was not at all acceptable. Especially as I was to become Duke on my father's death. It was at a delicate stage of my life that Gabriella appeared and not only silenced my relatives, but helped me to see there is not a thing wrong, or unnatural, with the way I am. I simply am. My mind, as much as my body, did not want the intimacy of sex with a female."

"It's not exactly smiled on at Tsuberov. Almost everyone is from the best families and there are family obligations to be considered. The teachers stress the importance of passing on the psi genes to another generation, and there is not much mentioned about same sex couples in sex ed."

Treize sighed and placed a bunch of grapes before the young man, a silent nudge to eat which Zechs took, chewing slowly on the grapes and not looking as though he enjoyed it at all.

"I have found that everywhere, though it is becoming more acceptable for people to use the invitro methods for procreation. Artificial insemination and genetic manipulation is something which makes breeding tolerable for high level empaths and telepaths, who find it more than difficult to tolerate such close contact between minds. I had my daughter through invitro contract, and I am under contract to provide at least another two children. Mariemaia is delightful and I could ask for no better child. I have access to her and we correspond regularly outside of our visits."

"How old is your daughter?"

"Five, but she will turn six before the end of the year."

"You must have been… I mean…"

He blushed wonderfully, Treize decided. This heightened colour deepened the gold in his skin tone and increased the contrast with his incredibly pale hair.

"I was barely nineteen when I agreed to the Barton contract. Given I had not, at that time, found my place in the world beyond being the Duke on my father's death, I determined to produce a child to quiet my relations fears. Recently there have been suggestions I should enter into another contract and I might." He sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. "It is something I might consider, in a year or so. I adore my daughter, but she is listed as a Barton heir and my family are screaming for a Kushrenada heir. They are periodically attempting to wrap me in cottonwool until I produce said heir and I am heartily tired of the entire situation. I personally can not see what the panic is all about. There is genetic material in the gene banks for them to produce an heir should something happen and I die. Regardless of whether I am alive or not, they can have their Duke to keep the family title in an unbroken line."

"Quatre said his father will expect him to produce heirs within a few years."

"It is the curse of the young men and women of noble bloodlines and the rich and famous. The next generation is vitally important to the older generations. You do realize there will be a breeding clause included in contracts presented to you? Our society is becoming more reliant on the psi capabilities of individuals and psi's are in high demand accordingly."

The blonde winced and blushed furiously and Treize grinned, totally unrepentant. He reached out to lightly brush a finger over the back of the younger man's hand. The rare physical touch between psi's of their level sent a warm current through Treize and he was pleased Zechs did not shy from the contact.

"Sex is a necessary, and usually very enjoyable, part of life. Fulfilling the breeding contract will not be a problem for me, in that it leaves me free to find and court the one who suits me. I can put up with the necessity of it because of the freedom it gives me. I like children and I will want more than Mariemaia. Invitro techniques and genetic manipulation have come a long way, and there are women out there who are willing to stand as surrogates. You don't actually have to lie with a woman to father a child anymore. Given the necessity to increase the genetic diversity of the psi population, invitro techniques are a Godsend. The government want psi active children; indeed they advocate their birth and set target numbers. To achieve those numbers we must use invitro procedures."

It was a delight to make him blush, but very soon now they would be interrupted and Treize had no intention of having anyone suspect him of making improper advances to get the younger man to blush so becomingly.

"Such matters can be dealt with over time, but you should not be surprised to find the clause in future contracts brought to you for your consideration. You need not fear exploitation and you should know that nothing will be presented to you that Gabriella has not already perused."

It was clear Zechs was uncomfortable with the topic and Treize took pity on him, chasing a small run of loose grapes toward him as a reminder Gabriella would be back soon and he should eat a little more.

"Now, tell me about which studies you like?"

t.b.c.

Karina Robertson 2008

—————

Treize Kushrenada : Level 10 Sending/Receiving Telepath + Receiving and Projecting Empath at Level 10. Prime rated. Agency Operative contracted term of 5 years with 2 years remaining. 25yrs of age Training facility: Psychic Institute Munich Division.

Zechs Marquise: Psi Student 5th year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Level 10 Receiving/Projecting Empath approaching Prime Designation + Level 9 Sending /Receiving Telepath, Projected L10 function. Finder function suspected, not officially registered. Country of origin, Luxemburg. 20 years of age

Dean Alexander Hargraves: Dean at Tsuberov University and Parapsychic Institute. Neural Implant. Sending / Receiving Telepath Level 3

Gabriella : Romany descent. Level 10 Sending / Receiving Telepath + Level 10 Receiving and Projecting Empath. Prime Rated. Training facility rumored to be Government Laboratories of the Prussian Republic deposed in the year AC 45. Age: Unknown rumored to be approximately seventy four. Oldest of the Prime Telepathic Empaths.


	25. Chapter 25

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 25/

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 25/??

Many thanks to ShenLong Deb for betaing this chapter.

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Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 25/??

Chapter Twenty Five

"So what time did Zechs get in last night?"

Quatre tried not to look guilty, or rather, suspicious. The last thing in the world he wanted was to attract attention to himself and his companion. It was an unassailable truth that when one walked with Duo Maxwell, one did so with the certain knowledge that security guards would focus on you.

Nor was it just security at Tsuberov with an interest in his friend.

Duo had just that kind of reputation, not that he ever did anything really bad; it was just his ongoing battle with Otto that was the problem. Their contest amused everyone and people liked to keep abreast of who was in the lead at any given time. If Duo was out and about you could be sure people would be watching in the hope of witnessing one of their famous altercations.

"I am not sure what time he returned, as I never actually heard him come in. I had expected him to travel with me to the hotel, but Otto sent me back around ten thirty last night saying Zechs would be working a little later than normal."

"Damn, he bum off, you think?" Duo practically bounced along, a backpack slung over his shoulder and looking like he had not a care in the world.

"No. I think, perhaps, the opposite."

"The note left on the table by the door telling us to allow him to sleep suggests he was working pretty late." Duo hitched the bag a little higher, waving a greeting to another student and marching on, all smiles. "It's not often any of us are given permission to sleep in. Are you sure he didn't fail the test last night?"

"I doubt there is any test Tsuberov can come up with that Zechs would be incapable of managing with at least a passable grade. No, Duo, I am not sure he did not fail, but I think his late night had little to do with his test schedule."

Duo paused and eyed Quatre with a quirked brow. "Little tetchy this morning, Q?"

The Winner heir stumbled to a stop and rubbed a hand over his face. "Sorry. I'm a little out of sorts I guess. What you are planning to do… Well, I can't say that I approve."

Duo chortled and bounced on his way, almost dancing a circle around Quatre as the blonde caught up with him. He was all grins, in a fine mood, and not inclined to be fussed with his friend's misgivings for his pet project of the day. It was convenient they both had a free period, as he could do with a lookout and he was not inclined to put off his little experiment.

"That nice bushy spot over there will do."

Quatre almost growled with frustration. He was not accustomed to being ignored and Duo had been ignoring his stated misgivings all morning and was obviously not about to listen to him now. If he had half a brain, he admonished himself, he would turn his sorry butt around right now and leave his companion to the fate that awaited him.

No doubt it would feature Otto and a stiff kick up the backside by way of eviction from the University.

"I think it more likely Zechs was late because he met Gabriella last night."

Maybe if he could interest Duo in something other than this ill thought out experiment he would forget about the harebrained scheme. Perhaps he could keep him occupied enough to forget the constraints of time, until it was too late to make the attempt? He could but try to distract Duo, and hopefully save both their butts from being summarily expelled from Tsuberov.

Duo settled with his back to a tree trunk and stretched languidly before delving into his backpack, producing his laptop and proceeding to set it up. Quatre huffed and almost threw himself to the ground, kneeling beside Duo with a scowl.

"You can't do this!"

Duo blinked, startled at the outburst from his friend before breaking into a smirk. "Of course I can. It will be easy, trust me. Scowling will give you wrinkles and age you prematurely, you know? So lighten up, Kitty Kat. Now, here's the man… erm, bug. There you are, my lovely. The Ghost Roach, secret spy extraordinaire."

Duo almost purred as he ran a finger lovingly over the miniature robotic device, surveying once again the clean lines and unique nature of the beast.

Quatre moaned softly, tearing his gaze from the miniature robot and surveying their surroundings. They were not too far from the Security Offices, and at any time one of the guards could notice them and bring them to Otto's attention; and Otto's attention spelt doom.

"Allah, preserve us! Duo will you listen to me? This is too dangerous."

"I do listen to you, Kitty Kat. All the time. You were saying that Zechsy met with Gabriella last night and I'm sure I have heard that name before somewhere." Duo rolled the bug over in his hand and flipped the base out, inserting a fuel cell before carefully resealing the unit.

"Of course you have heard of her; every psi has! Gabriella. The Gabriella." Quatre worried at his lower lip, casting worried looks about them. "You don't mess with Otto like this, Duo. I know he has enjoyed the challenge you present to date, but bugging his bloody office is not a good idea."

Duo loosed an evil cackle. "Literally bugging!"

"This is so not funny!" Quatre hissed.

"T'is too! Hey, you swore. Now, now, naughty Quatre," Duo crowed, waggling a finger at his friend. "We must not swear when we are the Winner heir, must we? T'is not done."

"Dealing with you some days would make a saint swear," Quatre hissed through gritted teeth.

Tilting the laptop a little to face Quatre, Duo motioned to the screen where a view of an air vent in the side of the security building was portrayed.

"I dropped a couple of cameras around the building earlier to make this part easier. You know if my controllers were watching this, I bet they would revise my training schedules up."

Quatre's eyes widened. "Have you been holding back?"

Blue eyes tinted with a glimmer of violet widened in an overdone display of false innocence. "Me? How could little old me fool the exalted examiners of Tsuberov? I do exactly as they instruct me to do; to the letter."

"Duo!"

"What? Can I help it if they judge me by averages? One thing I have never been is average, Q. Don't sweat it, Kitty Kat. They'll tag me next exam, you can bet on it. It's a biggy; full assessment criteria and talent grading. You know there is no fooling the machines once they start monitoring you."

"How did you manage to slip their radar?"

Duo waved a hand expansively. "I haven't. I just did a bit of developing over the holidays, and Kinetics are only given major assessments three times a year. Can you see anyone? I wouldn't want this little guy noticed zipping around the place."

"You are changing the subject," Quatre hissed.

"I'm getting to it," Duo snickered. "You don't make it easy, you know. So? Anyone strolling around in sight?"

Sighing Quatre looked about them as casually as possible, defeated for the moment and knowing he should walk away. His father would be horrified; he was horrified, but Duo was his friend and had supported him in the past. Could he do no less now?

"We are going to be in such deep shit."

Duo snickered and winked. "Coast clear?"

"Yes! Hurry up before someone finds us."

"Your wish is my command."

He knew he should be more serious, but what he was about to do was likely to get him expelled from the establishment and that would piss off the Sweepers to no end. But his curiosity was famous, or more likely infamous, and he hated being lied to, and someone was not telling them the truth… or at least not the whole truth.

He fixed his attention on the small device, not concerned with the actual lifting and moving of the unit. He had hefted far heavier items than his Ghost Roach; his concern was on moving the device unseen. His mind's 'hand' closed over the object to be moved and he 'felt' the weight, size and shape of the bug.

Most people mistakenly assumed Kinetic talents teleported objects from point A to point B, and certainly the Prime Kinetics Duo had had the pleasure of watching on training tapes could make the transfer so fast it looked like teleportation had taken place. To his knowledge, however, no one could actually teleport so much as an atom, let alone a three ton crate.

An experienced kinetic talent pushed, or pulled, an item through space so quickly often no actual movement was detected by a watcher; the human eye not being equipped to follow objects at such speeds. Those kinetics that moved cargo and assisted in moving anything from a space ship to a pencil around, did so with care for bystanders to the action.

It was possible, and happened often with learning talents, for a bystander to suddenly find themselves impacted by an item at near supersonic speed. People had died from being in the wrong place at the wrong time. There were designated areas no one was to enter wherever Kinetics worked; this safety zone was to allow the Kinetic to work without worrying about killing someone with the force of an impact of an item being moved.

Once he sent the bug zipping on its way, anyone who happened to walk across the flight line would see nothing until the impact occurred, and the result would be the same as if they had been shot by a high velocity bullet. Duo was not inclined to hurt anyone and needing to know no one was around was not simply because he did not want to be caught in clandestine circumstances. He had no desire to start a kill tally.

The small, very solid device was enfolded in his talent's grip; a light grip to ensure he did not crush the delicate instruments. A Kinetic talent had to be aware of the potential to kill, should their assigned subject be living, as well as the potential to crush the targeted destination because of high velocity impacts. Kinetics were generally not paid on how much material they destroyed, though some were employed in such a capacity. It was almost a certainty that as a kinetic talent amid the Sweepers, he would have his fair share of crushing salvage materials to make storage easier until they sold metal for recycling.

A direct line of sight between his current position and the Security Office enabled him to see his target destination, though he would need to stop short of the building. He would need to complete the manoeuver using the camera he had placed near the vent earlier in the day.

Assured there were no witnesses, and certainly no one in the immediate area who might be 'shot' by his projectile, Duo 'pushed' with his talent and in the blink of an eye his hand was empty. At almost the same second he needed to 'break' the velocity of the bug or have it impact on the building's wall, defeating not only his intent to peek into Otto's office, but also going unnoticed by Security. Moving literally at the speed of thought the device would punch a neat hole in the wall and end up in the building itself. Definitely not a desirable outcome.

Quatre held his breath as the bush by the building trembled and Duo sucked in a breath.

"Did you overshoot? Do we need to run now?"

Duo, with a tiny portion of his talent holding the bug suspended in mid air in the middle of the bush, snorted in amusement.

"Not yet with the running and screaming. No disclaimers of innocence needed at this time, Quatre. It's sweet, trust me. Now I just need to get the vent open."

Quatre eyed the laptop screen where the vent was revealed. "I don't suppose it can slip through one of the holes?"

"Ghost ain't that small," Duo breathed, eyeing the laptop for a long moment, "though I might just be able to widen the hole at that corner enough to get him in. I was going to unscrew the vent, but this might work better."

Blue eyes were now distinctly violet and deepening in colour as Duo concentrated on using his talent delicately, so as to avoid raising any alarms. He hooked Kinetic 'fingers' in the gap and extended force slowly, widening the gap by degrees until he was sure he had sufficient room. He slipped the robot into the vent and set it gently down, puffing out a breath of air as he sat back in evident relief at a job well done.

"Yeah, it's in the vent and no alarm raised. I am soooo good." He smirked at Quatre. "See? No problem."

"You have been lucky," Quatre hissed. "And it's only so far so good, thank you. We are not out of here yet."

The irrepressible grin sprang into existence. "Give me a few minutes and we should have a view of Otto's office and get the low down on what's really going down here."

Quatre sighed and settled back against the tree, pulling around his own backpack and beginning to remove from it some light snacks. Duo would be hungry after using kinetic talent and he ate like a horse at the best of times. They had been sure to include some high calorie snacks before starting this venture.

"I'm really not sure about this, Duo. It is grounds for expulsion if we are caught and not even the Sweeper Council will be inclined to save your butt. It would go on our records, and I shudder to think what my father would do."

The irrepressible Sweeper bounced and flashed a grin. He settled with his back firmly to the tree, casually tossed a few snacks out of his pack to add to the pile between them and then settled the laptop on the pack on his knee for ease of access.

"No chance of us being caught now. Otto's got his vents monitored you know? I did a sweep earlier and found some pretty high energy signatures which really surprised me, but that was not a problem. Genius that I am, I looped one of his camera feeds back on itself and bridged to a secondary system and it will show an uninterrupted signal while I trundle the Roach up to the vent in his office. He's a sneaky bugger our Otto, but he can't out sneak the Maxwell."

Defeated, Quatre simply sighed and watched Duo set up his program, listening to the merry humming as Duo worked. He was not going to win this one and he knew it. Short of removing himself from the action and dobbing in his friend to cover his own backside, there was nothing he could do.

"There we go. Everything checks out and now we just follow the vent until we get to Otto's office."

"Do you even know where it is?"

Duo sniggered, staring at his friend. "You are kidding, right? Of course I know where it is, I've had more than one lecture from him there. I think the idea of being lectured in his office was to get across to me how serious he was at the time. But it gave me the exact location and I've pulled up the architect's plans of the building; I know the vent system and how best to use it to get the roach there. Oh, and don't worry if we are interrupted either, I've got that covered. See?"

From a pocket Duo produced a fly sized, gossamer winged creation.

"We are testing this little beauty if anyone asks. I've rigged the secondary program up all ready to go if need be. So Zechs met Gabriella?"

Why did he bother? Quatre berated himself. Duo could run rings around anyone when he set his mind to something. He should know better than to try to distract Duo when the Sweeper had his mind set on nefarious schemes.

"Gabriella is the premier Telepathic / Empathic Prime. She is acting as liaison between the Psi's and the Government over the new amendments to the laws governing psychics currently being debated. She is also the T/E Primes personal trouble shooter."

"Oh yeah, I remember a few people have mentioned her. Looks something like a gypsy from a few hundred years ago, has a mouth like a fishwife and is afraid of no one." Duo considered Quatre for a moment with a cocky grin. "Sounds like my kind of gal."

"That's as fair a description of her as I have heard. Certainly once you meet her you never forget her. The only thing you forgot, was that she has a heart of gold under all that brass. I'll be interested in knowing what Zechs made of her… and especially what she made of him."

Quatre popped the top on a juice bottle and sipped, blue eyes scanning the immediate area of the grounds for any sign of possible trouble.

"I think it's fairly safe to say he now has friends in high places. Very soon, if not now, we can stop worrying so much about his future."

Duo frowned as he input a command to the bug and absently brushed bangs from his eyes. "I don't know if I will stop worrying about him in a hurry. It's the benefactor that worries me the most, and I'd say it is a foregone conclusion he won't be too happy to learn the Primes are butting in."

Quatre grunted softly, peering around the far side of their shelter at the faint sound of voices. He hunched lower, drawing back as best he could into the deeper shadow of the tree and pressing into the undergrowth for cover.

"Otto is on his way to the Security Centre with Duke Kushrenada and that Oriental he runs around with." A cheeky smirk dawned and he glanced over at his companion. "Hey, Duo, Mr. Cute Bunns is with them."

Quatre grinned like an idiot as Duo's head shot up and the laptop and backpack were discarded speedily. Duo stretched himself out beside Quatre and craned his neck around the bush as he looked for the men in question.

"Oohhh, will you look at that arse?"

"If you like I can find out who he is through more normal and acceptable channels, Duo?"

"Nah, not as much fun as this. He is soooo very touchable. I bet his arse is as hard as rock."

Quatre snickered. "Maybe you need to feed him up a little; get some padding on there. Hard is not necessarily comfortable, you know?"

Duo blinked and stared at his friend. "I don't believe you said that."

The Winner heir laughed softly. "Of course you do."

"Not as angelic as you look, are you, Kitty Kat? I bet even Daddy doesn't know what his little boy gets up to."

"You've got that right," Quatre sighed. "What my father does not know won't hurt me. I don't know what I will do when we eventually have to part ways. Going back to being the ever so proper Winner heir is not something to look forward to."

"Well… do we really have to? Part ways, I mean."

Duo sighed as the group of men entered the building and hustled himself back to working on the laptop. A few clicks of the keys and he had the Ghost Roach's feed back on screen and a picture transmitted in infrared of the interior of the ducting system.

"Neither of us will be at Tsuberov forever. Unfortunately life does not work that way."

Duo shrugged and considered a junction in the air ducts for a moment before choosing the left turn and then glanced at his friend.

"What I mean is, I am going to have computer access no matter where the Sweeper Council places me. That is more likely to be Howie's ship than anywhere, and I know the Old Man will not begrudge me a bit of air time to trade news with an old Uni buddy. It's a foregone conclusion you will have access to computers too, and it does not take long to send off emails or establish a vid channel for a face to face over long distance. We don't have to lose all touch with each other."

"I know that, but a quick trading of messages and a 'how are you doing?' on the com line is not the same thing. I like hanging with you, Duo. With you and Zechs; you both are like… well… I've not known what it was like to have real friends before. I don't want to lose that."

"Yeah. It's been great. Howie and the crew are alright, you know? I enjoyed myself before I came here, but I never had friends like you two. I guess we just have to take what we can get and not allow ourselves to let distance close us off from each other. No telling where Zechsy will end up because he's going to be a Prime, but if he's a 'free' Prime we can talk to him on the net. Lord knows where he will be going the way the ESUN is expanding. We can't let distance kill our friendship."

00000000000000000000000

"The empaths we had stationed last night did not so much as twitch through the night session at Tsuberov." Treize murmured. "There was no untoward activity at the hotel to report either."

"Either our stalker is still incapacitated by his little display of bad temper, or neither Mr. Winner nor Mr. Marquise is his target." Wu Fei settled comfortably in his seat.

Treize stared out of the window overlooking the manicured lawns and park like gardens. A few students were visible, most hurrying smartly toward class, a few choosing a shady place to relax on the lawns. Otto, in the process of placing mugs of coffee along the front of his desk for the other three men, glanced up at the tall Prime before settling into his seat.

"You still believe the perpetrator may be suffering the effects of a psionic backlash?"

"I would be extremely surprised if he was not," Treize returned. "The wreckage in the suite was clear enough evidence of a phenomenal amount of kinetic energy expended in what I am sure was a very short period of time. Given what I have witnessed whilst observing other Kinetic talents, I think reducing the suite to so much dross could have taken as little time as ten seconds."

Otto visible shivered. "You know, you are making me more and more afraid of how unprepared we are to deal with this person when we find him."

Treize and Chang exchanged glances, each only too aware of the capabilities of a high kinetic talent on a rampage. Otto really had no idea of the potential for disaster that loomed before them, and he was wise enough to know his limitations.

"We have reason to be afraid, believe me." Wu Fei sighed. "Even a super psi would have a problem keeping that amount of destruction quiet, or suppressing the minds of the students in the vicinity of the suite for more than a few seconds."

Heero stirred in his seat, reaching out to claim a mug for himself. "I do not profess to know much about the abilities of Psychics in general, and nothing at all concerning hyper active super psi's, but surely there must have been some control involved? Some degree of conscious control must have existed, but you make it sound as though it was a spur of the moment incident."

"I think you will find it was," Treize murmured. "I very much doubt the destruction in the suite was premeditated. The chaos is too random; there is no pattern in the destruction. The jumble of debris suggests everything happened at once."

"For it to happen at all, without disturbing the students housed to either side, or on the floor directly below, says there must have been some element of control involved. It was only the water leaking into the suite beneath that raised an alert," Otto argued.

"You do not rip plumbing out of walls without making a noise," Chang confirmed, glancing apologetically at his partner. "And it takes a great deal of kinetic strength to accomplish the feat at all. That means a great deal of noise. Of necessity plumbing is firmly anchored at strategic points and the pipes are more than sturdy and durable. Yes, the plumbing was old in the suite, but I had a good look at it and I have confirmed my findings with the Building Inspectors assessment of the damage. There was nothing wrong with the pipes, or the walls, prior to the incident. There were no structural weaknesses a person might have exploited. The psi that did the deed had phenomenal power at his disposal."

"You should know, you are the high level kinetic talent in this room." Otto scrubbed at his chin in a signature mannerism they were beginning to recognize.

The man was worried.

"I am not arguing against the strength of the man, I am merely pointing out that he has subtlety with it; if subtlety is the correct word," Treize interjected. "He has been sneaking around your dormitories for some time, and no one has suspected his presence before this. He knows he must remain undiscovered and, since he is also a T/E, at the instant he let loose, on a subconscious level there was the knowledge he must be quiet. He must remain unseen and unheard and the subconscious is a powerful thing. I need to sense the room again, going deeper this time. I have no doubt in doing so I will find the evidence of what his mental state was at the exact second he generated his rage in a physical manifestation. No one heard anything and I suspect this was possible because at his level of talent he was capable of generating a blanket suppression field."

Otto sighed and chugged on his coffee. "Well, it is your area of expertise. I have to go with what you determine from the evidence. Given the state you are suggesting the perpetrator would be in, I gather you are of the opinion it could be a few days, possibly as much as a week, before we have to worry about any repeat incidents?"

"More or less."

Treize observed Otto for a long moment, ignoring Chang's brief nod and confirmation, and instead concentrating on the Security Chief. He was not certain what it was about Otto that worried him, but there was something not quite right. He could not point a finger to something specific in his manner, or even in something as subtle as the tilt of an eyebrow as he talked, but something was off about the man. Perhaps it was simply that extremely expensive mind shield Otto employed against telepathic intrusion?

Whatever it was, there was something about the man that screamed deception to Treize.

/He's not the stalker. His mental 'signature' is all wrong, and if he was he certainly would not be on his feet now. No, there is something else about him, but I can't quite put my finger on it./

It was extremely difficult to hide from an empath. Thoughts were easy enough to hide behind a synthetic shield, or by mental noise generated naturally, but emotion was something else again. The human body and mind was designed to be one massive emotional generator. From birth the need to communicate with others of your own kind drove the human body as well as mind. Every physical twitch had a meaning; every word spoken carried underlying currents echoed within the body. Empaths were sensitive to these rarely seen, and supremely subtle, signals blending with the emanations of the mind. Words were not necessary when one learned to read the human body and Otto generated a level of subtle deception.

Treize had no doubt he could work his way through the defences the electronic device provided the man, but it would take time to accomplish the task. Time he did not have and should he do so without a dispensation he would be in a great deal of trouble with the law. Prime, or not, one did not lightly trespass within the sanctity of another human mind. Unless sanctioned to do so, of course.

No, he could not trespass in Otto's mind at this time, but he was concerned enough to find out who had performed the surgery and adjustments to the device. And, perhaps more importantly, who had paid for the procedure. Surgery of this nature was phenomenally expensive and at this time the new shield systems were carefully controlled by the government.

/The black market is a possibility of course, but I don't think that would be the case with Otto. Gabriella knew him. I received the impression she was surprised to see him in Tsuberov, and anything that can surprise Gabriella requires my investigation./

"Given you are certain the Psi at fault would be at least partially incapacitated by his tantrum, what medications might be used to aid in the recovery of such a backlash?" Heero eyed Treize thoughtfully. "If medicines have gone missing from the infirmary or pharmaceutical department that match the requirements; or should they have been dispensed to a person in the last day or so, we may be able to work from there."

Otto rumbled softly, a low growl reflecting his temper of the day. It was early and already his stress levels were rising. He could see no promise in the day for a speedy resolution to their investigation, and while he understood the complexities of the situation he was only human.

"If you could give me the names of any medications that might be used in such a situation, it would help. I can have the school medical supplies checked and the dispensary records examined. All medication is closely monitored and security on the drug vaults is tight. Drugs are logged in as they enter the university and the staff at the Infirmary and at the laboratories, are careful with listing all dosages administered to those in training. Everything is logged to strict procedures. Actually…"

Otto fell silent, a deep frown furrowing his brow. He was clearly giving serious thought to something before voicing his concern and he spent a few intense seconds staring first at Chang and then at Treize.

"What have you thought of?" Chang queried.

"I was wondering… It is no great improvement in our current situation but… Is it possible we are not dealing with a super psi going out of control, but instead with someone who has somehow gotten their hands on some of the prohibited Psi enhancing drugs?"

Treize felt a chill envelope him. It was something he had preferred not to consider, though it had crossed his mind once or twice. He had a nasty tendency to want to avoid thinking about the banned substances which enhanced a psychic's abilities to the point they damaged their brains.

Chang stirred uneasily, rubbing his right hand over his left upper arm. He clearly was uncomfortable with the suggestion but he did not summarily dismiss the concern.

"It is possible, we can not deny that, but they are playing with fire if they are. That type of enhancement can become addictive very quickly and the user tends to use higher doses of the substance over time, looking for the initial rush that comes with opening up the neural pathways. If the Stalker is using contraband drugs to enhance their abilities, the drugs will eventually destroy their mind."

"It is possible, yes," Treize agreed, "but it would be more than difficult to acquire such drugs. You would have a limited supply of chemical enhancers at the laboratories, I would expect?"

Otto nodded briefly and noted Yuy was scowling, clearly not happy with the direction their conversation was taking.

"Storage and security of such drugs is monitored by government agencies and," Treize thought he knew the nature of the man well enough to make an assumption, "you would be keeping separate records?"

"I am," Otto confirmed.

"Pull your personal records then. Yuy, can we get a comparison between the supplier's records and the University records? If we compare all three sets of delivery records and compare it with the dispensary records we should be able to determine if someone has managed to lift samples of the drugs before they were logged into the dispensary. It would also give us confirmation if someone has removed drugs from the dispensary, bypassing the protocols."

"I will arrange for the pharmaceutical and government records to be provided, and if Otto will acquire for me the university records of the pharmaceuticals, plus the disposal of out of date drugs and records of use, I will have a team detail the comparison. I should be able to have it available by tomorrow morning; evening at the latest."

"I will see to gathering my personal records when we are finished here and make arrangements for the University records now. How far back do you want me to scan the records?"

"Four years." Treize dismissed the surprise from all three men with a lift of one hand. "If the drugs have been used long term we need to know about it. By comparing the intake of drugs over a number of years we should get a full comparison and any change in the pattern should be obvious."

"Very well." Otto rose. "I'll make arrangements for a full printout of the records to be made. It will take time to go back over four years so I will get someone on it immediately. Excuse me a moment."

Chang waited until the Security Chief had left the office before turning to his partner. "Four years is a little excessive, don't you think?"

The Prime shook his head, once again motioning with his hand to dismiss the concern. He knew what he was doing and if there was abuse of the drugs it was a matter that had to be dealt with by the appropriate authorities as speedily as possible.

"I do not. It is possible, if the perpetrator is using enhancement drugs, that he could have been using them in the long term in controlled doses. Perhaps sporadically at first, then building in frequency and dosage as the addiction set in. There is also something else we should not turn a blind eye to concerning drug usage. I recently became aware of a series of tests being carried out on the use of enhancement drugs to incite telepathic and empathic abilities in people who had previously been proven to be non Psi capable. The work is strictly illegal, but the evidence suggests the experiments have been carried on for some time now, and the drugs being used have to come from somewhere. These are specialist drugs, controlled substances, and their use is limited to a few select institutions. The black market asks a fortune for them."

Yuy sucked in a deep breath. "You suspect Tsuberov as a possible source for these drugs filtering into the underground?"

Treize waved a hand in a weighing gesture, not ready to commit himself to the theory, but certainly not dismissing it either.

"Tsuberov is a possible source, as in it is one of the few places the drugs are used to control Psi function. I have no idea if Otto's suggestion is the source behind our stalker's abilities, but the theory is plausible. Given what I know of the growing illicit use of these drugs in the underground, it is something we can not afford to ignore. It must be investigated."

"You have a point. Given the deaths that have already occurred through this use of psi enhancement drugs, we can not afford not to investigate the possibility, however remote, that it might be linked to the present situation." Heero sighed. "While I have not worked on such an investigation myself, I do know there are a number of government agencies cooperating to locate the source of drugs being used in illegal experimentation. Three bodies have been found in the last year, and autopsies have shown severe brain damage was the cause of death in each case."

"Specifically Psi enhancement chemicals were detected?" Chang queried.

"In each case traces of one, or more, psi enhancement drugs were found in the victims' systems. None of them, once they were identified, were found to be on the government lists as being psychics of useable talent."

"The illegal use of these drugs may have nothing to do with the instances occurring at Tsuberov, but there is nothing to say the stalker is not using such drugs to enhance a low psionic ability. At the moment I tend to doubt the perpetrator is using drugs. The psi signature I detected was not what I would have expected from a drug enhanced individual, but I was not specifically searching for such indicators. It is equally a plausible explanation that they might, at one time, have been exposed to the long term influence of such a drug and are no longer using it."

Treize made his way to the credenza and poured himself another mug of Otto's excellent coffee. He was disturbed by the spectre Otto had raised; almost an offhand comment had led to a new area of speculation that, quite frankly, scared him worse than the idea of a rogue super psi.

"Using enhancers at some time might have fried their brain for them and they survived it," Chang snorted. "Lovely situation, isn't it? Non psi's are feeling threatened and segregated because they are being made aware of just how much of this world is influenced by psionic enhancements. If they feel threatened to the point they attempt to force open dormant brain functions, who could tell what we will be facing in the future?"

"Unfortunately something was bound to happen when the government decided to make as much use of those with Psi talent as possible. It was exacerbated by the decisions requiring higher level psi's be contracted for breeding purposes." Treize sighed "It will only get worse and the next three to four generations will be subject to tension until the status quo in the breeding shifts. Then non psi's will feel they are an endangered species and matters will become particularly ugly."

Chang snorted. "It is bordering on what I would term nasty now. The new bill being proposed will further cement the legality of the surrogate breeding program and the contract breeding system between high level psi's. It will ensure Psi's do not become forced into marriages they do not want, but it is causing havoc with legal hereditary issues."

Of that Treize was only too aware; his fights with his family over producing a legitimate heir for the Dukedom were a constant source of aggravation for him. His extended family were not happy with the idea a Barton was the only heir at this time.

"There are many people I have spoken to over the last few years, who are not keen on the idea of a world that revolves on the abilities of a few. The current system is far from stable and is leading to imbalance and unrest and if they do not strike a balance acceptable to the majority of the populace, it will ultimately lead to war."

Wu Fei stretched slowly, working cramped muscles. "And there are others, Heero, who are not keen on being the few with abilities being exploited for the gain of others."

There were always two sides to every coin, two faces to be examined and considered, not that some people thought so. Their view was right, regardless of facts, fallacies or fantasies. It was not a pleasing prospect for the future but, Treize mused, Gabriella had admonished him to trust her.

"Hmm," Treize sighed, sipping his coffee. "Back to the case at hand, please gentlemen. We need to be concerned with our stalker, not with the trouble that may, or not, rear its head as the world changes."

"If this stalker is the result of performance enhancing drugs, then the powers that be will be far from amused." Wu Fei scowled into his cup.

"That goes without saying, but for now leave that train of thought. We have a murder to consider and a stalker to hunt, and we require information we as yet do not have to further pursue this angle." Treize motioned to the door. "Our Security Chief is returning."

A moment later Otto walked into the room, heading straight for the credenza to pour a fresh cup of coffee.

"I have made arrangements for the lists to be compiled and printed. They should be available in a couple of hours and I will see they are passed on to you." Otto settled behind his desk, eyeing Yuy and Chang for a long moment before he sipped his coffee and sighed heavily. "Have you learned anything from the body?"

"Lucrezia Noin will arrive later today. Her exact time of arrival had not been confirmed at the briefing this morning, though her presence today has been promised," Chang returned. "I believe she had a report to complete before she could depart."

Otto shifted his shoulders uncomfortably and stared into his mug. "I'm sorry, but I have to admit to being uncomfortable with the idea of bringing in a Medium. There should be other methods to identify a dead man."

"Speaking to the dead directly is still an area which gives rise to sceptics." Treize considered the Security Chief with a falsely casual smile. "It will take time for that specific use of psi talent to be fully accepted. You are not the only one uncomfortable with the idea."

It was interesting, what he sensed from the Security Chief at the talk of a Medium. The man had been open and accepting about all areas of Psi and suddenly there was something in his reaction that Treize read not as uneasy suspicion, but as something closer to an uneasy alarm.

The idea of a Medium communing with the victim did not please Otto.

"There are other methods and by no means have we exhausted the scientific possibilities," Yuy returned. "We currently have independent laboratories running source of origin checks to determine his area of origin."

Otto blinked. "Pardon?"

"It is a method archaeologists have been using for over a century now. A detailed analysis of the bones and the teeth of an individual can be used to detect trace elements unique to specific geographical locations on the Earth. Where ever we live we absorb these elements and they remain in our skeletal structure. Determining these signature traces gives a geographical location and, since when we are young we tend not to be globe trotters, the area of origin is usually relatively easy to determine."

Chang inclined his head slightly to Heero and turned his attention to Otto. "When the tests are concluded and analysed we will have a location from which we will be able to begin a more specific search. It will narrow down the possibilities dramatically."

"He could be colony bred," Otto observed. "How would source of origin testing work in that case?"

"He was Terran bred," Treize murmured. "His bone density is such that it was unmistakably produced by an individual who has not spent any great length of time in a low gravity environment. It is amazing really, how accurate science can be. It is a great help in our line of work."

/Ah yes, another uneasy spike in the leakage from his neural net. Nothing specific, but there is definitely something there./ Treize was more intrigued by the man than ever.

"I see. The wonders of modern science, indeed," Otto murmured. "Well, given this information can be found using scientific means I have to ask, why the Medium? If Ms Noin's skills are in such demand, I would have thought you would have waited until the tests determined country of origin and you ran… ah." A small smile twitched his lips. "Do the tests take a more lengthy time than most?"

"They can take up to a week to perform, which is far less time than they used to take," Yuy responded.

/He's not at ease about this. It is leaking through the shield clearly enough and it makes me wonder if he wants the man to remain unidentified. Now that is an interesting thought. What might Otto be privy to that we do not as yet know? Something is definitely odd here and I want to know what it is. Perhaps I could convince Gabriella to fill me in on what she knows of Otto? She would be able to inform me of more than I can find in his file, I think./

"The Medium should be faster in acquiring a name for us and scientific tests will not inform us of why he was in the suite as quickly as asking the shade of the man." Wu Fei set his empty cup on the desk. "Mediums tend to spook me out a little, but I have heard Lucrezia Noin is very good at what she does."

/And Otto is not particularly happy with that fact./

"It is time we returned to more practical labours. We need to speak with the housekeeper, or whatever it is you call her." Yuy straightened in his seat. "Sitting here speculating is not getting this job done and I have no intentions of losing Winner, or one of the other two, to a stalker. Is Catherine Bloom available for an interview?"

Otto seemed to shake himself out of his reflective mood and inclined his head. "I will have her called to attend a meeting. Do you intend a formal interrogation?"

"No," Treize interjected. "No, not at this time. There was something she said in our last interview that I feel needs to be clarified, that is all. I can talk to her without disturbing your routine any more than we have already. However, I do request that you speak to her and garner her cooperation in this matter. Fighting through her belligerence, as well as the established block, is not something I need to do every time I interview her."

Otto nodded. "Catherine can be a little intense on occasion."

/Intense? I would have termed it bad tempered and sorely in need of deportment lessons./ Treize thought. /Still, she is under the influence of a mind lock and false memories. It is bound to have an effect./

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In the tree overhead a bird chirped, breaking the silence but neither of the two young men seated beneath the canopy heard it. Two heads, chestnut and pale blonde bent intently over the laptop and neither looked to be breathing. It might have been a sculpture for all the movement which had come from them in the last twenty minutes.

"Stalker?" Duo breathed. "There's a stalker in Tsuberov?"

The question broke the tableau and Quatre sat back, resting his back against the tree trunk though his attention was still focused on the laptop.

"Someone is dead. Someone died, Duo."

The braided youth seemed to shake himself out of his fascination with the computer resting on his backpack and he seemed to require a few minutes to absorb his friend's words.

"Well… yeah. Yeah, someone died. Remember when we initially arrived from the shuttle port, Otto told us there had been a death on the grounds of the university? I guess he was telling the truth. No one has said exactly where they died or who it was though."

Quatre winced at protesting muscles and began to work his shoulders, trying to ease the stiffness from inadequate movement for so long as he listened, rapt to the four men. There was no thought now of the repercussions of being caught bugging the Security Chief's office. He had more to think about than being expelled.

"Well, from the sounds of what we heard, they don't have any idea who the victim is, so that's understandable. Those men are the Investigators, Duo. We just eavesdropped on a murder investigation."

Duo rubbed at his cheek absently, considering what they had learned as he watched via the laptop and his Ghost roach's feed, as the men in the office took their leave of Otto, leaving the Security Chief looking pensive. Otto stared at the closed door for a long minute, expression shuttered and slowly smoothing out to be carefully blank. In three long strides he was at his desk where he settled and scrubbed his hands over his face.

"Not good."

His voice was soft but clear over the laptop's speaker.

"Not good at all."

t.b.c.

Karina Robertson 2008

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Notes:

Quatre Rababer Winner: Psi student, 2nd year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Current Level 5 Telepath, projected Level 7, Current Level Receiving Empath 9.3, projected Level 10, Prime. Current Sending Empath Level 2, projected Level 4. Colony of Origin, L4 Cluster 18 years of age

Duo Maxwell: Psi Student , 3rd year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Level 8 Psychokinetic ability, projected level 9. Sending Telepath Level 5. Colony of Origin L2 Cluster 18 years of age Sweeper adoptee. Under pre contract agreement with Sweepers.

Treize Kushrenada : Level 10 Sending/Receiving Telepath + Receiving and Projecting Empath at Level 10. Prime rated. Agency Operative contracted term of 5 years with 2 years remaining. 25yrs of age Training facility: Psychic Institute Munich Division.

Chang Wu Fei: Level 9 Telekinetic + Receiving Telepath Level 5. Agency Operative contracted term of 10 years with 8 years remaining, 22yrs of age Training facility:Psychic Institute Luxemburg Division.

Heero Yuy: ESUN Security Agency Elite Operative. Government sanctioned Genetic enhancements performed by Romefeller Genetic Laboratory, Tokyo for adult service as Security Enhanced Operative. No Psychic Talent. Genetic induced enhancements include enhanced Strength, Hearing, Speed and Olfactory senses. Assigned regularly to liaison with The Agency's psychic agents. 21 / 22 years old

Heinrich Otto: Tsuberov University Security Chief. No Psionic talent. Staff Member at Tsuberov for five years. Fitted with a Neural shield implant against telepathic intrusion. Former employment, Sanc Imperial Guard. 35 years of age.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter twenty Six

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 26/??

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. That's about as plain as you could say it.

Many thanks to ShenLong Deb for betaing this chapter.

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Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 26/??

Chapter Twenty Six

"Otto has that right. It's not good," Quatre whispered. "I knew Duke Kushrenada was in law enforcement of some kind, but I thought it was a private investigations agency, and I did not expect their work would include investigating active murder cases. That should be the province of the police and the ESUN's Intercolonial Law Enforcement department."

"Mmm."

"Well, I suppose Tsuberov could have requested an exclusive agency be involved in the investigation, considering their clientele. They would want the matter dealt with as quickly as possible."

"Mm mm."

Quatre scowled, sparing a quick glance at his companion. Silence and Duo were a rarity and generally indicated something was wrong, or mischief of a hair raising nature was afoot. The idea of interfering in a murder investigation did not thrill Quatre and he glared at his friend.

"We are not getting involved, Duo Maxwell. This is not some vidshow. This is real. It's dangerous. It is way out of our league."

"Mmmmm."

Duo, Quatre decided, looked to be a million miles away; blue eyes deepening to a shade perilously close to violet suggested there was some heavy thinking going on. Quick fingers beat a steady tattoo against one black clad thigh and he gave every impression of being unaware of the world around him.

"Duo!" He was half of a mind to poke his friend and when no immediate response was forthcoming that was exactly what Quatre did. "Duo?"

"Huh? Oh. Think about it, Quatre. One of the suites in our dorm block was wrecked by a berserk Psi, that's what was said, right? That's disturbing." Duo turned to the pensive blonde. "You know, I'm a little worried."

Quatre blinked, suddenly finding himself resisting the urge to slap his friend. He had been worried Duo's thoughtful silence involved the formulation of a reckless plan to investigate what was best left alone, but at least they had come to the same conclusion.

"Oh good, I was getting more than a little worried. We agree to leave it to the experts and concentrate on our classes." Quatre looked relieved'. "We would only get in the way of the professionals and obstruct their investigation."

He had been concerned Duo would demonstrate his usual insanity and want to push his nose into matters which certainly did not concern them. Although, to be fair, if one of their group was being stalked, then they were already involved.

The foliage in the canopy spreading above them rustled to a rising breeze and Duo found himself staring into the leaves and branches, suddenly wary of finding an eavesdropper. He had learned far more than he had thought he would from his use of the miniature robot, and he was not sure that he would not have preferred to remain in blissful ignorance. He was finding himself looking for someone lurking in the immediate vicinity who might be watching them with more than the usual curiosity.

He was not about to own up to being spooked though.

"When we were evacuated from the dorm my reaction was that we might have had a sick joke fanatic loose in the place, but it's much more than that."

"I'm more than a little worried about the whole affair. I can see why Otto has us all travelling with security guards now, and why there were so many moved into the hotel with us," Quatre returned.

Duo seemed to shake himself out of a daze and, taking a deep breath, he watched as the three men he now knew to be investigating a murder, departed the Security Office. The light breeze stirred the Duke's distinctive hair and played with the messy hair of the one he thought to be particularly fine to look at. The oriental, with his tight ponytail and ramrod stiff back, led the way with the Duke and the shorter man following, the latter two seemed to be discussing something.

"Yeah, well… Looks like they are heading back to the dorms. I'd have thought they would have learned everything there that they could have by now. They said you were the target and it makes a hell of a lot of sense for it to be you. You are rich and you have to admit you would be a prime catch."

"Stalkers generally do not focus on the amount of credits a person has as the primary attraction, Duo."

"So?" Duo waved a hand in dismissal. "They do say money makes the world go around and it sure as hell makes a guy look a whole lot more attractive, not that you are challenged in that department. I've heard you described as 'angelic' on more than one occasion."

The blonde scowled and after a moment shrugged, forcing the frown from his face and replacing it with a carefully neutral look.

"I think it is more likely they might be presuming I am the target. I admit that I don't know a great deal about Stalkers, but I believe they don't necessarily target the wealthiest individuals. They usually fixate on some more personal aspect than how much money you have in your bank account."

"Yeah, I know all that, but you have to admit you are the most likely candidate. I mean, I'm a Sweeper brat and Zechs is a street kid made good; though he might argue with me about that. You have to admit that we're not really worth the notice."

He knew he was gong to be on the receiving end of a glare and lecture for that, but as Duo saw it he had the right of it. Quatre was the most likely target. He glanced back at the laptop where Otto seemed to be engaged in some deep thinking. The fingers of one hand beat a sharp and rapid beat against the desk top and Duo could see the frown lines and glimpse eyes that reflected a multitude of thoughts, none of them particularly good, he suspected.

"Not worth…" Quatre flushed and Duo received 'the look', the one that was far from angelic, though he thought Quatre looked a little more pissy than he had expected. "Duo, have you looked in a mirror lately? Who would not want a piece of that? We can't judge what it is the Stalker is interested in given the small amount we know. Who the target is depends on exactly what this person is after. If it's someone with an infatuation for a pretty face then you and Zechs certainly qualify, and could be as much a target as I am considered to be. No doubt that is why they have all of us in what amounts to protective custody."

"But does it account for the trashing of our suite and the murder?"

Quatre opened his mouth to deliver a blistering comment and paused, blinking at Duo in surprise. "Excuse me? Who trashed our suite? When?"

Duo sighed. "Damn, you sure miss a lot, Kitty Kat. You'll have to improve your observation skills if you are to make a success of your career as the future CEO of the Winner Corporation. You'll never make an impression if you don't know what is going on around you."

"Excuse me?"

Duo chose to ignore the fierce glare directed at him and leaned his head back against the tree trunk.

"Look, its simple enough to work out. Who are the only people who were moved the first day we returned to Tsuberov?"

"We were."

"Exactly. We were moved from our suite to a new suite, with the explanation there were a few plumbing problems that required resolution. Those plumbing problems I now believe were in actual fact a murder taking place in our old suite. If you were the investigators of a murder would you allow a bunch of students to move into your crime scene?"

Quatre blanched. "No; and with two of us high level empaths it would be a very bad idea for us to move back into the suite."

"The Board of Governors sure as hell would not want it bandied about that there was a murder on the grounds, let alone in the dorm block housing some of the wealthiest families' little darlings." Duo shrugged. "Smells like a cover up to me. Keep it quiet, don't allow speculation to take off, and don't spook the cash cow."

Quatre considered his companion in stunned silence and realized Duo was most likely correct. The night of their return to Tsuberov he and his companions had been given a new suite, and in light of what he now knew, it was glaringly obvious as to why. He could even see why the Dean had been such a pain about wanting to move him to another dormitory block.

"Ah."

Not very eloquent, but it was all Quatre could manage for the moment. He was not particularly thrilled with the entire scenario because it was all too plausible.

Duo nodded sagely. "Exactly. The body had to be in our suite and that being a given, it has to be our suite that was trashed because it would be the only one vacant. Besides, we know who the people were who woke up being rained on, don't we? Their suite is sited directly below our old one."

"Yes. Yes, I think you may be correct in your assumptions."

"Of course I am right. I'd make a great detective." Duo glanced at the laptop again, deciding he really should retrieve his Ghost Roach and paused. "Hey. Look it. Otto is up to something."

Quatre wriggled closer to Duo in order to peer at the screen. Otto was leaning forward slightly, one hand extended with fingers poised over the vid com. For a long moment he hesitated and finally straightened, opening a draw and removing a small black box with two plain wires dangling. The Security Chief seemed to be more than a little reluctant as he again paused, one finger rubbing absently over the box before he swore, a muted whisper over the speaker of the laptop, and began to connect the box to the vid com.

"Oh I like the man's toys." Duo breathed. "If that little piece of hardware is what I think it is, he's making certain no one learns of the call he is intending to make."

With the device in place Otto sat back and balled his fingers into fists. Duo guessed Otto was fighting against the urge not to make the call and then Otto reached out and his fingers flew competently over the keypad in a sequence Duo could not quite follow. Otto's hands fell to lie flat against the desk for a brief few seconds before he leaned back in his seat and made a conscious effort to relax, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes.

"Bloody headache."

He began rubbing his hands together in what Duo surmised to be a nervous reaction to waiting and from the set of his shoulders Duo had the impression Otto was a worried man. A man who was not happy with the need driving him to make this call. His fingers moved from rubbing nervously to tapping rapidly against the desk.

"Can you turn the volume up any more, Duo? I am not sure we will be able to hear whatever is said over the vid com. It's obvious he's not keen on the idea of anyone learning of this call, so he might have the volume low to lessen the chance of anyone passing the office overhearing anything."

Quatre, Duo noted with a smirk, appeared to have gotten over his nervousness about the blatantly illegal use of the Ghost Roach. There were laws about invasions of privacy, and what they were doing now was assuredly illegal, but he loved it when Quatre got interested in one of his schemes, as he was now; because Quatre's morals went right out the window.

"Can't. The volume on the Roach and the laptop are already maxed out. There was limited room available for the instrumentation on the Ghost Roach, remember? It's a sensitive mic for all its size, so hopefully we will be able to hear whatever is said. I have to watch the power gages too. I had to use a really small fuel cell to power the unit and I can't afford to let the power run down to the point where I can't retrieve him. We'll have to make do with what we can see; if we can't hear anything."

Quatre sighed. "I know what is going on is none of our business and we should not be doing this, but… There is no excuse for this kind of action, it's an invasion of privacy on a personal level, and then there is the fact that Otto's the Security Chief of the University. We definitely should not be bugging his office."

Duo shrugged. "I can always retrieve the Roach now."

"Don't you dare!" Quatre blushed at his outburst and Duo's grin. "You would expect Otto to have to make all sorts of calls in the course of a day, and some he would enjoy more than others. I'd say from the way he approached this call it is not one he particularly wanted to make."

"And that is what is so interesting about it!" Duo grinned.

Quatre answered Duo's grin with one of his own and glanced at the screen where Otto sat in silence, fingers beating a somewhat agitated tattoo on the desk top.

"You know, from the amount of numbers he typed in, and the fact there were a few comma's in there, I'd say it was not a standard call. Admittedly I did not catch all of the numbers, but it seems to me this has to be a security coded call in. The comma's would mark the breaks between the phone number and the security code; maybe one or more extension numbers too. I've seem my father make such calls hundreds of times and they can have up to thirty numbers involved. How many would you say Otto typed?"

"I wasn't paying much attention to it, but maybe around twenty or so," Duo decided.

"I wonder how long it is going to take for him to get an answer? He does not look as though he expects to get a response in a hurry."

Duo considered the man on the screen and sighed, glancing quickly at the bar marking the power available to his robot. "From the set of his shoulders I would venture to guess he does not particularly want to get an answer."

Quatre arched an eyebrow, about to comment that you did not make such calls without desiring a response, but even he could see how stiffly Otto sat in his seat. The man exuded more than a general air of tension.

"Yes, he seems to be… reluctant. I guess… Well, that shows what we know."

The blank screen flickered briefly, a momentary flash of deep blue before a black screen settled and a single blinking point of white denoted an open connection was in operation.

"Classification!" the single word was barked out from the com in a deep, gravel edged voice and its effect on Otto was electrifying.

The Security Chief straightened in his seat, reaching to pull the personal com unit closer to him. He looked, if anything, more tense, his spine straightening as though he stood at attention, fingers balled into fists on either side of the com unit.

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He had thought long and hard about this call and in the end knew there was no help for it, he had to make it. He had hoped the matter could be dealt with with a modicum of fuss, quickly and quietly, but that was not going to happen. He was a realist and the investigation would not be over quickly and the possibility the Stalker, who was presumably the murderer, was hyped on enhancement drugs, was only one of many reasons to make the contact and report.

He had wanted to avoid contacting the coordinator, but he could no longer justify keeping quiet about the events taking place at Tsuberov. When all was said and done his duty was to his charges, and should anything happen to either one of them he would deserve the consequences which would fall upon his head.

"Gold three."

His silent count reached three before the screen flashed that midnight blue once more and then resumed its blank darkness; only the tiny white square blinking in the corner to demonstrate the line was still active. He was expecting one of three voices to respond and he was not surprised when it was the deep tones of his liaison which issued from the speaker.

It came, of course, as a demand. They never asked questions, instead demanding answers. If you called this number there was no time for social necessities and there were days he promised himself to front the bastards in the com centre and explain to them the benefits of politeness. One could be efficient and still polite. If his people at Tsuberov spoke to each other as these did he would have them out of his employ in seconds, with a stiff dressing down and a mark against their record. But he was not in control of com central, unfortunately, and he had a situation on his hands.

"Code phrase for voice identification!"

"The Baby's Nanny." He felt his lip curl in distaste.

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"Huh?" Duo dissolved into mad cackling, slapping his hands over his mouth as though afraid Otto would hear him. "The baby's…"

Quatre shushed him, flapping his hands to quiet his friend, but he was well aware he was grinning like an idiot himself. The idea of Otto being considered a baby's nanny was simply ludicrous.

"Whatever you do, Duo, resist the temptation when you next see Otto to talk about babies and nanny's."

Duo blinked and his grin only widened as he fought to control his amusement and concentrate on what was happening in the Security Chief's office.

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"Voice identification confirmed. Request iris scan."

Otto sighed and resisted the urge to swear profusely, but if he wanted communication on this direct level with his controller then he had no other option. He slotted an optical scanner into the com device, leaned over the unit and placed his right eye over the laser. It was a nuisance and one of the reasons he had hoped to avoid contacting his superiors, but unless he followed procedure to the letter it would be assumed he was compromised. The com beeped to signal the completion of the optical scan and he straightened, removing the scanner and replacing it in the draw of his desk. It was second nature to him to run his thumb over the electronic lock and register the resulting beep, which signified the lock was enabled.

He wanted no one accessing what lay within the draw.

A single, attention demanding beep issued from the com unit. "Iris scan confirmed. Welcome Commander. Input code."

Finally he could get on. He had limited time to accomplish this before someone came looking for him and the investigators were expecting him.

"Gold five. Viable possible threat to Gold level subject."

For all of two seconds the screen remained dark before flushing blue once more.

"Acknowledged, Gold five alert. Please wait."

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"Ah, man, what do you think Otto's into?" Duo breathed. "This is looking like some serious shit."

"Language, Duo." Quatre was leaning forward, staring at the monitor intently. "He's talking to a highly computerised security monitor with human attendants. A high level security system. You know this angle sucks, Duo."

Try as Quatre might he could not gain a satisfactory view of the com screen. He had a partial view but not enough to suit him and he only hoped, if there was a logo depicted on the screen that he could not see, Otto would move a little and allow him to glimpse the device. As the Winner heir he was well advised on such security monitoring stations and how expensive they were to maintain.

"Well sorry," Duo sniffed. "I never designed the bloody buildings or I would have been sure to put the vent a little further to one side, just so we could spy on the Security Commander. Remind me to have words with the architects when next they decide to construct buildings here, and I'll see what I can do for you."

Quatre sniggered. "Sorry, but I'd love to see the logo that has to be displayed on the screen. It must be on the obstructed portion of the screen and I'm sure I would recognize it if I could just see it."

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"Come on, come on. What is taking you so long?" he whispered, his fingers tapping a furious tempo on the desk top.

He glared at the blank screen, willing the emotionless voice to resume communications. He would be shunted to a computerised threat assessment program, he knew that, but there was no help for it. One day someone would actually have all stations manned by more than a half assed artificial intelligence system.

The screen flickered to a deep blue and the discrete logo for the AI unit appeared at the bottom left hand of the screen. At least it gave him something to focus on, even if his focus was unkind thoughts directed at a soulless robot.

"Gold five alert, acknowledged. Command instruction follows. Do you require assistance?" The voice was male, perfectly modulated, artificially calm and collected.

It annoyed the hell out of him.

Otto scrubbed his hands over his face wishing he could just talk to a real person. These security station robotics drove him crazy and his head was throbbing. He would require a few painkillers shortly and he might need to find some time to visit his neurosurgeon. The tension was not helping him accustom himself to the new implant.

"Action is required. Request all records for agent Delta Bravo Alpha Rebecca, assigned to security for Gold Five, undergo a full system purge. Agent is deceased and there is danger of him being identified by civilian and ESUN authorities."

Again the pause and the screen flashing almost immediately to its black mode took him by surprise. He had expected an acknowledgement of the necessity to purge the system records of the deceased agent, and a toneless question if other action was required. This silence was disturbing.

The screen flushed pale blue and the seal in the lower left hand corner denoted the Security Agency logo. Otto felt his back stiffen to rigidity; this was unexpected.

"Nanny, this is Alpha One. Do you confirm that Delta Bravo Alpha Rebecca is deceased?" The voice was unmistakably human and the tone one of genuine concern.

"Deceased status is confirmed."

"Has the perpetrator been identified and are the circumstances surrounding the death controlled?"

They were not going to like his answer and he resisted the urge to fidget, instead locking his fingers together before him on the desk. He was about to ruin the day, indeed the week, for Alpha One.

"The identity of the perpetrator is unknown at this time. An investigation by civilian and government authorities is underway into the death. Be advised The Agency, with a Prime level T/E operative, is involved in the investigation. Owing to the Prime's involvement I judge it necessary for all records of Delta Bravo Alpha Rebecca to be purged from all systems. I further request you log this warning and convey it to Gold One with all haste."

A pregnant three seconds of silence followed by a click. "Go ahead, Nanny."

"Be advised a Medium of Prime ranking is being called in to assist in identifying the deceased agent. The Medium's arrival is expected within the next twelve hours, exact ETA is unknown at this time. I request instructions as it is my belief Gold Five may be in immediate danger from an unknown party, namely the killer of our agent."

"Be advised Nanny, that Gold One is unavailable at this time. Your report has been noted and will be passed on at his earliest convenience."

"Damn."

Otto shook his head, far from pleased to hear that Gold One was unavailable. At least he could be assured that Gold One's unavailability was not a blind. The man barely slept at the best of times and was deeply involved in the turning of the world government.

"Status of Gold One is noted. Will await instruction from him. Be advised the threat level to Gold Five is judged to be level three at this time. Inform Gold One that intermediary agent Basilisk is at this time considered to be unsuitable to continue in his role as Guardian of Record, given recent events. Constant delays in reaching Basilisk are making adequate security arrangements for Gold Five difficult and unsettling him."

"Acknowledged. Will advise when instruction is available. Is there anything else to report?"

"Gold One might be interested in knowing the Agency Prime, Duke Treize Khushrenada, has seen fit to bring in Prime Gabriella. I am known to the woman."

"So noted. Is that all?"

"Yes."

"Alpha One, out."

"Nanny, out."

Otto slumped in his seat and muttered a quiet 'shit', but there was no time to delay and spare himself a precious few minutes to consider the conversation. He leaned forward to initiate a purge of the communication systems records and then purged the security attachment before returning it to his desk draw, initiating the lock once more. It took only seconds to accomplish the system purge and ensure even the Agency staff would not be able to retrieve the conversation should they ever get their hands on the device.

Heaving himself to his feet he stretched, the only luxury he would permit himself before he headed for the door.

"This is getting out of hand. He'll have to make up his mind, one way or the other, just what he is going to do about Zechs."

The door whisked shut behind him.

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Duo stared at the laptop balanced on his knee as the door closed. Dimly he was aware Otto out of his office was dangerous to his health, but he could not move. His head felt thick and stuffed with information he did not know what he should do with.

"Zechs?" Quatre breathed, leaning back to settle his back against the trunk of the tree. "He did say Zechs as he left the office, didn't he?"

"Yeah. Yeah, he did. Quatre, what the hell is going on?" Duo stared at the patches of sky visible through the canopy of the tree, trying to force some order into his thoughts.

"I don't know."

"What the hell interest does Otto have in Zechs outside of the University?"

Quatre rolled the back of his head slowly against the bark of the tree. "I don't know. This is just… confusing the issue of the stalker and the murder."

"Is it related I wonder?" Duo mused.

"I don't know," Quatre murmured.

Drawing a deep and steadying breath Duo bent over the laptop and began to type rapidly. Watching him Quatre frowned, glancing at the screen over Duo's shoulder and he was unable to understand any of the symbols and writing flashing rapidly across the screen.

"What are you doing?"

"Shutting down the Ghost Roach to conserve the battery life. I'll have to leave him there for now." Duo never took his eyes from the keyboard where his fingers were flashing rapidly across the keys.

Quatre blinked, only too aware of the dangers involved in leaving the robot in the ventilation system. "Why?"

His commands given, Duo powered down the computer and slipped it into his back pack before replying. "Otto is most likely on his way out of the building, and there is no way I plan on having the laptop out and operating. If he sees it he will jump to the immediate conclusion I have been working on something and it's potentially shady. I don't want him looking into what I have been playing with. You know he's always suspicious of me and my gadgets."

"Well, it's not as though you haven't given him plenty of reason to be suspicious before now," Quatre chuckled.

Glancing around the area, Quatre took note of who was wandering around at this time and their proximity to his shady tree. He wanted no one near enough to overhear them.

Duo flashed a cheeky grin. "Yeah well, it was all practise for my career in law enforcement."

"You don't have a career in law enforcement," Quatre smiled angelically.

"I know, but I have to find out if I would be any good at it don't I? Work experience, research; that's what it's called. I think I like design, engineering and mechanics much better. Less stress, you know?"

They were talking for the sake of talking, loads of rubbish, he knew. They were not sure what to say, and they certainly had no idea what they should do about what they had witnessed. Trading meaningless comments was a means to gain a few minutes of time in which they could think.

"I've snooped where I probably should not have before. Eavesdropping has nothing on this though." Duo drew a deep breath and decided there was only one way to tackle the subject and that was front on. "We hit pay dirt, Kitty Kat. I always thought there was a lot more to Otto than he seemed. Guess I was right. He's not who he says he is and he's up to something. Something that involves our Zechs and…"

"And?"

"And that makes it our business."

Quatre rubbed his back against the tree, enjoying the rough surface against tense muscles. He had an advantage over Duo in understanding the clandestine world of security agencies and planted agents and that, he was sure, was what Otto was. A planted agent for a private concern interested in their very own Zechs Marquise.

"Actually Duo, I think you will find that Otto is exactly what he claims to be."

"Say again?"

Quatre raised his knees and rested his hands on his thighs, lowering his head to rest on his knees. His father had seen to it he understood a great deal about the security that surrounded their family and how it worked. One day he would be 'The Winner' and he had to understand his place in the dynamics between business, family and security.

"Otto is highly trained security personnel. Elite level. I've met his like before, working for my father and other high profile people. It's not only him here at Tsuberov either who is more than just a run of the mill security guard. Look at Catherine Bloom, she's more than just the supervisor to oversee the cleaning of the dormitories, you know. She is Tsuberov Security, but not outwardly obvious security."

"Yeah, well… I knew Cathy wasn't just a cleaner. But Otto? He's working for someone other than Tsuberov, Quatre. Don't you find that worrying?"

"No. It is often done to the benefit of all parties. He is working for Tsuberov, heading their Security Office and giving them the benefit of his experience. He is also keeping an eye on a select individual, or individuals. Otto's whole working life has been security oriented according to his records, and yes, I have seen them. My father investigated Tsuberov thoroughly before he allowed me to come here to train my talent. I was with him when he reviewed the security arrangements for the complex and to say he was impressed is an understatement. The conversation we overheard actually goes a long way to explaining what happened just after my father reviewed security here, and why Otto is not working for Winner Security."

Duo blinked, staring at Quatre in surprise. "Your Dad tried to hire Otto?"

"My father's people do not make mistakes, Duo. Otto is highly qualified and his services do not come cheap. The Winner even tried bribing him away from Tsuberov to work exclusively for the Winner Corporation, but Otto refused."

"Someone refused The Winner?" Duo grinned at the disgusted look that comment earned him. "Hey, come on now. Not many people refuse your old man and you know it."

Quatre nodded. "I have to admit you are right, but yes, Otto refused when he was approached; politely but emphatically. What did surprise me was that my father asked a second time… personally."

"Your Dad asked Otto to work for him? In person? Hey, was that Winner Security we were listening to on the com? You'd know the system for your own security service wouldn't you?"

"Yes, I know Winner systems and no, that was not Winner Security. Of that I am certain."

Duo set the backpack to one side, resting it up against the trunk of the tree and gazed up into the canopy. "So he doesn't work for your father?"

"I am not sure what was going on then, or what is going on now, but there was something odd about the whole situation. I had the impression that there was some subtle game being played, and I was missing a key ingredient into understanding what it was they were doing. Otto turned my father down, that much I know, but my father seemed satisfied when he returned to L4 and my father does not take being refused easily."

"Damn. You've got me intrigued now, Kitty Kat. So it is possible Otto is working for your father keeping an additional eye on you, just the way he is keeping close tabs on Zechs for someone?"

Quatre hesitated, considering the idea, and he had to admit it was a possibility. There was nothing to say Otto had not agreed at some stage to supervise additional security for Quatre while he remained at Tsuberov.

"Possibly. Anyway, I do not see that what occurred two years ago will help us now, but I suppose I could…" Quatre hesitated not exactly pleased with the idea he was entertaining. "I could always ask my father about what happened. He has not approached Otto since that I know of, but you can be sure there is a great deal I don't know. Dad doesn't waste his time and I think whatever game they were playing is over."

"Yeah, I got the impression your Dad does not waste time and effort needlessly when I met him. So anyway, what do you think we should do now?"

"We should take time to think before we do anything. Otto is obviously working private security in addition to working for Tsuberov."

"But he has this place that tightly patrolled and alarmed a rat could not get in. Why extra security, Quatre? And on Zechs of all people… ah, well." Duo considered his hands resting on his raised knees, recalling the Zechs he had first come to know when he had arrived at Tsuberov. "But it has been a couple of years since Zechs tried to run. He's a lot more settled now."

"They must consider the need is still there to maintain a certain level of security about him. Otto mentioned something about a Guardian and his being unsuitable in these circumstances." Quatre rested his chin on his knees and stared out over the lush lawn. "Maybe Zechs will be in for a new Guardian soon? We can hope he will be fortunate enough to be assigned someone who has more of an interest in his future than the current Guardian, if Otto was actually referring to Zechs's sponsor. I think the arrival of the Primes at Tsuberov has stirred up a hornets nest."

"Should we have a talk to Zechs? Perhaps warn him?"

Quatre watched as a group of students walked smartly along the path near the security office. As yet Otto had not appeared and he was starting to relax as the threat of imminent exposure faded. The puzzle over Otto's employment, and the news of a Stalker loose in Tsuberov, was now more intriguing than alarming.

"Warn him about what? Duo, we have to be very careful with what we now know. If we make a mistake we will be in more than just trouble with the Board of Governors, my father and your sponsors. Not to mention Otto could make mince meat of the pair of us. I don't want either of us ousted from here and we have to be aware of everything we say and do from now on. We have to hide our knowledge."

"Yeah, but Zechs…"

Quatre shook his blonde head solemnly. "Think about it. Zechs is worried enough about achieving his Prime ranking, and getting through the last of the examinations required for him to graduate. It is his last term here and he does not want to have to repeat the year. We have to encourage him to work; allow him to concentrate and help him every way we possibly can."

"Yeah but… the Stalker. He should be waned about the Stalker. And Quatre, he's nearly a Prime level telepath and Empath. He's going to know something is up as soon as we get near him."

It was a valid point and Quatre was uncertain as to whether or not he, let alone the too often transparently emotional Duo, could slip this past their friend's guard. But he had a point too, Zechs had a great deal of work to accomplish in the next few months and he did not need the distraction and stress. There was noting else they could do but try to keep the knowledge from him.

"If he asks; if he senses something is going on, we will have to talk to him about what we've learned. If there is a Stalker watching one of us we need to be on our guard, but we now know that Zechs has additional guards assigned by Otto, not just campus security. Zechs should be well protected, and he does not need to stare at every bush near him and wonder if a possible lurker is stalking him."

"If? I honestly don't think there is much of an 'if' in this case. The only if is if Zechs is the actual target, but being with us makes him a potential target, just as we are potential targets. Look, these guys are professional investigators, not amateurs. You can't think they would make a mistake as bad as saying there is a Stalker on the grounds if there wasn't enough evidence to prove their suspicions?"

Quatre sighed. "What I think is that we have a good reason not to go anywhere alone, and to be conscious of who is in our immediate vicinity at all times. Duo, we have no proof of their being anything untoward going on at Tsuberov, just a conversation we overheard. We didn't actually hear a great deal when you think about it. Someone used Psi to trash one of the apartments, and that would have to be a kinetic talent. They talked about suppression of the students in the adjacent rooms, and that is a purely telepathic ability. That means the Stalker is a multi talented type and high powered. We really don't want to play with the likes of that."

"Yeah, I'm not keen on the idea either."

"Beyond watching each other's backs we can't afford to get involved. Zechs is not the only one who has work to do after all. We can't afford to let our grades slip and draw attention to ourselves."

Duo growled softly, not liking the sense Quatre was talking at all, but he did acknowledge that it was only sensible to watch each other and to keep their mouths closed. He was not pleased with the idea of not confiding in Zechs though. Duo did not lie and keeping secrets from Zechs was perilously close to lying in his view.

"I don't lie to anyone, least of all to my friends, Quatre. Not telling Zechs is just not sitting right with me."

"I'm not particularly thrilled either, but I don't see that we should needlessly worry him. He needs to buckle down and get his work sorted, you know that. There are a few teachers here who would love to fail him, and we don't want to give them the opportunity to do exactly that. We avoid telling him for as long as possible. Agreed?"

"Yeah, well, I guess. I don't feel particularly inclined to play with a mean tempered psi with a fetish problem, who could kick our asses either. Any suggestions on how to deal with that?"

"You are not the only one who does not want to play with such an individual. Why do you think we need to deal with it? We are not crime fighters, Duo. We are students, nothing more."

Duo huffed a breath which blew his bangs up and revealed a set of worried blue/violet eyes. "Look, for the moment I won't say anything to Zechs about what we overheard, but you have to face facts, Quatre. Zechs is approaching Prime level and he is more than capable of picking up on stray thoughts and sheer worry. We will be positively vibrating worry on so many levels it won't be funny. At least I know I will be. If he asks, I don't lie."

Quatre sighed and nodded. "Yes, I know you do not lie. It is an admirable, if annoying, trait."

Duo flashed a grin, the shimmering eyes dancing with a glint of mischief.

"Well look at it this way, Zechs is almost a Prime and you are not so far off that rating yourself on the Empathic level. I'm a level 8 kinetic, so between us we have a reasonable amount of talent to call on. If we mind ourselves and keep close to each other we should be alright." Duo glanced around to check on their surroundings. "Otto must have found something to do in the security block. I expected him to have come out by now."

"Thankfully," Quatre murmured. "We watch each others backs, try to keep Zechs from finding out and watch his back in the process, and we wait. The Duke and his associates are here to investigate and we have to give them the time to do exactly that. They are obviously searching for whoever it is who is stalking the campus, and they intend on keeping us in a controlled environment as much as possible. For the next few days at least I think we should be careful to be exactly where we are supposed to be and not skip out early, or change plans at the last minute. We need to help them find this person as quickly as possible, and we can best do that by not getting in their way."

Duo grunted softly and stood, stretching his back carefully before picking up his backpack. "I'll leave Ghost in the vent for now. I don't want to chance being seen removing the bot and difficult questions being asked."

Quatre smirked. "And we might always find a use for it later?"

Duo sniggered. "There is always that."

t.b.c.

Karina Robertson 2008

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Notes:

Quatre Rababer Winner: Psi student, 2nd year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Current Level 5 Telepath, projected Level 7, Current Level Receiving Empath 9.3, projected Level 10, Prime. Current Sending Empath Level 2, projected Level 4. Colony of Origin, L4 Cluster 18 years of age

Duo Maxwell: Psi Student , 3rd year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Level 8 Psychokinetic ability, projected level 9. Sending Telepath Level 5. Colony of Origin L2 Cluster 18 years of age Sweeper adoptee. Under pre contract agreement with Sweepers.

Heinrich Otto: Tsuberov University Security Chief. No Psionic talent. Staff Member at Tsuberov for five years. Fitted with a Neural shield implant against telepathic intrusion. Former employment, Sanc Imperial Guard. 35 years of age.


	27. Chapter 27

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 27/??

//…// Thoughts

Italics Telepathy

… Empathic Impression translated from emotion into symbolic words.

*…* Flashback / Memory

Many thanks to ShenLong Deb for betaing this chapter.

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 27/??

Chapter Twenty Seven

Treize considered the pristine grounds surrounding him with something frighteningly close to contentment, soaking in the restful aura that permeated the gardens. Though he was well aware the feeling of peace and tranquillity was a carefully managed, and quite artificial atmosphere, he never the less ached for it. The quiet, the sense of solitude and restfulness was what he needed and even knowing there was a killer and stalker, who might be one and the same person or not, loose on the grounds of the University complex could not take away from the ease offered to his threatened shields.

If he could just enjoy a few undisturbed hours in this restful, shielded environment he could work wonders with the stressed protections surrounding his mind.

If.

Always a horrendous word and one a professional investigator was too familiar with.

"I meant to ask earlier, have you mentioned the last conversation you had with Ms Bloom to Commander Une?" Yuy queried.

//I will need to request Gabriella assist me further with deep level damage control. She will crow a little, of course, and tell me what a fool I have been to permit things to deteriorate to this stage, and she will inform me in pointed language that she trained me to use my brain and most likely follow it up with some reference to cutting loose the apron strings too soon; but she will get the job done. I can put up with her 'holier than thou' attitude; she is a dear, if graced with a somewhat annoying personality in the long term. I will have the time off I have requested, but I have no intention of going anywhere while there is danger here.//

Chang had basically accused him of having a sexual interest in Zechs Marquise, an accusation tantamount to rape in the select telepathic community where a private desire remained private unless it should be brought to the attention of others by inappropriate behaviour. He had done nothing wrong, made no improper advances and certainly had not pushed his interest on another. Telepaths were required to work to a strict set of rules and protocols.

Yes, he was interested; he would have to be dead and rotting not to be. He was homosexual, he made no attempt to disguise the fact and yes, he was also sexually frustrated, but he was not intending to involve the younger man in his problems. He had been dealing with sexual frustration for years and he was no brash and horny teenager.

"Excuse me?"

He was aware, though he had not informed any one else, particularly not Chang or his superior, Anne Une, that Zechs Marquise was also attracted to the male sex and that there was potential for a relationship between them. He knew it, Zechs knew it and so did Gabriella. It was potential that simply would not, and could not, be acted upon at the present time; not until the trouble at the Tsuberov campus was sorted out to his satisfaction. Further more, any potential relationship with Zechs Marquise would need to wait until the younger man concluded his tenure at Tsuberov.

Two consenting adult Primes engaging in a relationship of a personal nature would not draw the kind of attention and objections that would break over their heads should they express interest in each other whilst Marquise was still a student. The tenants of propriety must be adhered to if he wanted any sort of long term relationship, whether his desired partner should be Marquise or some other person in the future.

"Mr. Khushrenada?"

Gabriella knew of his interest and the returned interest of the student. For the sake of propriety Gabriella, in her official capacity as a Prime and one who was officially registered as his mentor, would monitor the situation so that no individual could accuse him of improper intentions.

There was time, after all. He was not after quick gratification but something else. Something more that a feel good interlude. In his courtship of the blonde, and he would pay court to the younger man, Gabriella would be his staunchest ally and toughest critic. He shuddered to think of the suggestions she was sure to have regarding his courtship activities, but her heart was sure to be in the right place.

He resented Chang's implications of impropriety in his work and was only too aware of how others might see the situation, should he spend too much time hunting out excuses to interview Marquise. Most annoying of all was knowing that had he been heterosexual, and Marquise chanced to be a woman, nothing would have been said, but that simply was the way it was. Unfair.

He needed to be particularly aware of everything he said and did when in the younger man's company, and to permit Gabriella to scan any and all conversations they might have. He would not have any chance of a future relationship jeopardised by a misplaced word, or misunderstood action.

"Treize?"

But first there was the task of identifying the stalker and his target. At the moment there was speculation that the target was one of three individuals. If the infatuation of the stalker was not wealth oriented, then Marquise and Maxwell were equally as viable target material as Quatre Winner. Somehow he had to determine who was the actual target, and that might impact on the murder; it might even offer some clue as to the identity of the murdered man.

"Treize? Earth to Treize, come in please."

His partner's somewhat sardonic tone, accompanied by a fleeting touch to his shoulder and his empathy reading a flash of frustrated amusement, dragged his attention back to his immediate surroundings. He looked to Chang, unable to hide his consternation at the interruption, or the touch and its rather unwelcome intrusion into his thoughts.

"Yes?"

Chang sighed, exchanging a somewhat amused glance with Yuy.

"I don't know where you have been for the last few minutes, and I have no intention of speculating about it, even to myself. Agent Yuy has been attempting to attract your attention. Have you spoken to Une concerning your earlier session with Catherine Bloom?"

Ah. Real life could be such a bore sometimes, and his partner had a nasty habit of bringing the ravening beast called reality to his door.

"Where I have been, Chang Wu Fei, is right here," He wafted a hand around, indicating the general area; rather surprised to see how close they were to the dormitory building. "soaking up the atmosphere, of which I wish I could enjoy more. I will thank you to keep any speculation concerning myself under control and preferably leave me out of your thoughts entirely. Pray focus your attention on the case, if you please."

At his partner's wince Treize drew a steadying breath and sighed, a fleeting sense of shame visiting him. That had been more than a little harsh and his guilt was the cause of it. Chang had no idea where his thoughts had been wandering, he was a kinetic talent, not a telepath and certainly nothing Chang had said could be considered an accusation. His guilty thoughts about thinking of the younger blonde had gotten his hackles up and he really aught to apologize.

"My apologies, Wu Fei, that was entirely uncalled for. I am afraid I am a little snappy this morning and I should be more disciplined than to take my temper out on you. I apologize."

Wu Fei, he guessed, would assume he knew why his partner was snappish and associate the appearance of the sassy mouthed Prime with his temper. A fleeting vision of Gabriella passed through Chang's public mind and amusingly enough it featured horns and a long sinuous reptilian style body. The dragon Gabriella almost caused Treize to laugh out loud, but with it he sensed a flash of bitter harsh reality; the knowledge of why the Gypsy Prime was present in the city.

"My fault," Chang murmured, offering up a formal bow to emphasize the apology. "There is no need to apologize, Treize. We are all stretched a little tight at the moment with the turn this investigation is taking. Have you spoken to Commander Une?"

He needed to drag his thoughts from his own sorry fate and concentrate more on the case. He could not court Marquise until he sorted his shields out and rehabilitated his life, providing the groundwork for what he hoped would be a solitary life to become something much more satisfying. Before he began to express his interest there were a great many things to do, and people to be seen and the matter of stalkers and murderer must be settled.

Somehow he needed to bring his partner of work to the knowledge and acceptance that he desired a partner out of hours who was just as male as Chang Wu Fei's out of work partner was female.

It was best to be thoroughly professional about this, both he and Chang, and it was not as though he was a love struck teenager. He was a professional investigator, a man who could focus on the needs of the moment, explore the depths of a person's mind and emotions and plan out exemplary strategies. He really needed to act like it occasionally.

"I took the opportunity to inform Commander Une on a number of matters pertaining to the case, including my previous dealings with Catherine Bloom. After consultation it was decided that on my next interview with her I shall see how far I can push Ms Bloom. The shield set in place is strong and it may be that I will require at least one further session to make the breakthrough. I have no intention of endangering the young lady's sanity, and strategic delays in the probe will give Ms Bloom the chance to rest and recover strength. I should be able to push a little harder against the block than was safe during our last encounter. If I consider it necessary I will garner dispensation for a hard core scan and break the block under controlled conditions."

He already had a good inkling of the psychic strength of the person who had set the shield, and he was not hopeful of a quick and clean breakthrough. While he was sure the perpetrator was new to his skills, and largely untrained, the renegade psi appeared to have a natural aptitude for such intricate work and had sufficient depth of power at his command to set the shields deeply in the woman's psyche.

He would make a formidable opponent in a face to face confrontation.

Given the Winner heirs involved in the case, Treize had little doubt he would be given consent by the powers that be to push hard to gain whatever information Catherine Bloom did not know she held. It might be nothing that would assist them, the woman might not have noted anything of worth, even on a subconscious level, but the perpetrator of the crime had seen fit to initiate the block, and if nothing else, setting it had saved her life. Which opened up further questions, he reflected, but there was no time to speculate now. He could only hope for some vital clue, perhaps even the glimpse of a face when he broke through the block.

He sensed a sudden spike in his partner's emotions. An uneasiness and hesitation and chose to wait as they neared the dormitory building. What ever it was that was bothering him Chang would open up about eventually, and as it happened he did not have long to wait. As they stepped from the lawn to the driveway in front of the building he felt Chang firm his resolve.

"Might I enquire as to the current whereabouts of Prime Gabriella?"

Treize grinned, Wu Fei clearly wanted to be assured the woman was nowhere near their immediate vicinity and a quick glance at Yuy revealed a smirk that mirrored his own amusement. Treize was quite sure his partner would experience a need to be aware of the location of the Prime at all hours of the day and night, purely in the best interests of self preservation.

The woman knew how to make an impression.

Treize determined not to tell Chang until he was in a particularly bad mood with his partner, that Gabriella was developing a liking for him. The Prime would undoubtedly go out of her way to impress upon him, whether by her very presence or from long distance, his need to keep a close guard on his tongue. It was just the way Gabriella was, determined to keep her 'children' aware of the tenants of propriety and good manners at all times.

'Smokeless Dragon' was, Treize feared, destined to become Gabriella's pet name for Chang Wu Fei.

"To be honest, Wu Fei, I am not exactly certain where she is. I expected to see her prior to coming here this morning but I received a message informing me she will be out of town for a day or two. The message stated that I should know, after all this time, how to reach her should I require her invaluable assistance. She was inordinately pleased with herself last night, and after our departure from the University she took great pains to inform me we would need to talk at a later time. Before she left my apartment she said something about requiring her beauty sleep before visiting with an old friend. I assume she is looking up said friend."

"So she will not be here for the next two days?" Chang breathed. "Wonderful!"

Treize, seeing the smirk on his partner's handsome face, could not resist the temptation to burst Wu Fei's little bubble of happiness. As they crossed to the steps leading into the building he found Yuy was watching him and must have noted the evil glint in his eye, because the man turned away from Chang to hide a wide grin.

"Of course, with Gabriella being Gabriella, her 'two days' could stretch out to as much as a week."

Wu Fei's content grew appreciably, the empathic talent of the Prime monitoring the emotion until it peaked and then he struck, taking a fiendish delight in the moment.

Gabriella often said he never grew up.

"Or shrink to a mere hour."

Chang's emotional output froze.

"It would not surprise me to find her walking down one of the footpaths here any minute. If there is one thing I have learned in my association with Gabriella, it is that she is a force of nature I can best equate to the wind. She can be a zephyr, gentle as any spring breeze, or she can turn into a hurricane, blowing as she wills with sufficient force to rip houses apart."

Chang scowled, glaring at his partner, knowing how amusing Treize found the situation, now that Gabriella was not breathing down his neck, calling him a fool in so many colourful ways for permitting his employer to exploit his talents. Treize was quick enough to cringe and sit quietly in a corner like a chastised school boy when the Prime focused on him.

"Laugh if you will, at least I was only of passing interest to the heinous woman. Unlike someone whom I could name, I do not need to concern myself with her on a daily basis." He made no effort to hide his smug satisfaction with knowing that, like some errant schoolboy, Treize would be hounded by the woman until she believed he had learned his lesson.

To Chang's horror Treize paused in the doorway and looked positively feral, white teeth glinting in the sunlight as he smiled at his partner.

"If it is your wish to die a messy death, my friend, then keep thinking that. It pains me to inform you that once you have the great fortune to come to the attention of Gabriella you are, thereafter, forever noticeable."

Treize detected a flash of unease, a moment of uncertainty in his partner and an amused 'glow' emanating from Yuy, who appeared to be enjoying Chang's reaction immensely.

"I am of no further interest to the onna."

Treize snickered and generated so deep a level of smug satisfaction that Wu Fei quickly caught the emotion directed so expertly in his direction, and a deep sense of horror filled him. It was clear Treize was having entirely too much fun at his expense and he refused to look at Yuy. He had better things to do than act as the comedy relief.

"I will thank you to shut up and prepare yourself to work. Although I can't think what else you hope to learn from scanning the suite a second time." Wu Fei strode ahead with his back ramrod straight and his head held high.

Yuy snickered, grinning at Treize. "Sore spot."

"Very sore spot. Take my advice and do yourself a favour, Heero." Treize was smiling and he fell in beside Heero as they followed Chang up the stairs at a more leisurely pace. "Make certain you do not make the mistake of incurring Gabriella's wrath. She is as quick to bring you down to ground level as she is to pick you up and dust you off, and then hug you when she deems you suitably chastised. The woman has a killer bosom; you suffocate as there is nowhere to put your face, and a bear has a weaker hug. She is the greatest friend you could ever have, but the worst of enemies."

Heero acknowledged the warning with an inclination of his head. "It was not my intention to draw the attention of the Prime. Her reputation precedes her. I have heard too much of her from fellow agents who had dealings with those who incurred her particular brand of chastisement. I am safely anonymous, unnoticed and therefore, blessedly safe."

"Ah," Treize murmured, not even attempting to restrain a knowing smirk. "Wise man, Heero, however, I fear in your intent to be spared her notice you are defeated before you begin. It is my great pleasure to inform you that Gabriella notices everyone when she determines it necessary to poke her arched Romany nose into another's business. I believe she is all too aware of your involvement in the investigation, as she has made a comment or two which suggests she has looked your way."

Yuy froze, stopping to glare at the Prime who grinned in the face of death with all the immunity of one who had survived a multitude of temper tantrums from the Romany Prime.

"But she has no cause to seek me out."

Treize's sighed, exasperated. When would these younger men learn that Gabriella did not need an excuse to single out an individual and pay him attention? Gabriella was simply Gabriella; she needed neither excuse nor reason.

"Since when, my friend, has Gabriella ever required a reason for anything she does?"

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From somewhere in the darkness there was the sound of water, the slow, steady drip of water drops deposited into a puddle of accumulated liquid. The gardens automated sprinkler service had been in use overnight and by noon the water would have dried up and the underground way would no longer echo to the sound.

It was best to keep to the dark and secret ways undermining the University complex. Into these passages no one ventured as a rule through the day and it was safe for him to move around. In the deeper darkness of the night there was the occasional foray into the passages from those who sought out secret places to indulge their passions and exercise heated blood.

He, unlike they, immature students that they were, would not seek out these darkened tunnels to work out the fire of his blood. His passion was not for sordid, clandestine meetings. He was not interested in groping in the dark and hasty kisses. He would not insult the perfection of the one he sought to love by bringing Him to these dank tunnels beneath the campus. He would not cheapen and sully their lovemaking by groping in the dark and lying him down on cold stone.

Perish the barbarians who sullied love with lust. A pox on those who cheapened what should be beautiful.

When the time came for him to captivate his lover with the fire of his passionate embrace, it would not be to dank and dark secret ways that he brought Him.

He would know the comfort and security of a nest prepared expressly for the purpose of His comfort.

There must be a bed, his bed, soft and firm beneath His back as he lay his lover down amidst scattered rose petals as red as His hair was pale. There must be soft candlelight, a golden ambiance in which to view His beauty and enhance their passions with the mood of romance.

Sweet and low music. Music filled with romance and beauty as classical as his lover's perfection. Soft ballads of the beauty of love making and the perfection of a lover's grace. Soft strains of classical Mozart and, to further the mood, the sweeping beauty of a Strauss waltz.

Ah, the ambience must be perfect to enhance the beauty of Him.

Soft candlelight, low music and silken sheets scented with rose petals on which to lay His naked perfection. It must be more than a feast for the eyes. It must be a true feast for the senses; sight, scent, sound, touch and taste.

Just the right wine for Him to sip. The flavour must be subtle, sweet and a little dry on His lips. He would taste the wine from those sweet, sweet lips and feed Him strawberries dipped in the very finest dark chocolate. The sweetness of the fruit would be complimented by the bitter sweetness of the chocolate and would linger on his lips, within his mouth.

When they kissed His taste would be enhanced, complimented by wine, chocolate and fruit. Taste must be as pleasing as sound and sight and he would savour the taste of Him for hours on end.

But touch! He must not forget touch. A robe of the sheerest silk to kiss His tender flesh. An ostrich feather, or perhaps peacock, with which to caress His skin. Oh yes, soft and gentle as a feather lest He bruise and that would not do. He must be filled with the majesty of His senses.

He would demonstrate his great love and his passion.

Within the comfort and safety of their nest he would show Him how he was loved, how He was adored. He would worship Him and bring Him to screaming ecstasy, aflame with the ultimate pleasure.

His skin would be warm and heated as their passion evolved into lovemaking. He would taste the wondrous body on his tongue. How much sweeter would strawberries be, eaten from the navel of his lover? He would dip strawberries in wine and crush them, smear them over his lover's belly and tongue the sweet juices from salty, silken skin.

A bower for them must be prepared for them to love within; sweet wine for them to drink, the finest delicacies must be prepared for Him to eat. Only the best might be permitted to grace his lover's needs.

He must begin to prepare for that day. Soon now would the time come. His mind was growing stronger and soon he would be at his peak, strong enough to ensure the safety of his lover. Already he had chosen his sanctuary in which to construct his bower. Unlike these unimaginative rutting stags who humped those they professed to love in damp tunnels, and who were interested only in one thing.

They cheapened love and made of it lust, belittling their partners in their haste to rut.

Not so he.

He was better than they and for him the great jewel, the one he would call his lover, would know every comfort and care for His deflowering.

He was assuredly a virgin.

He was untouched; unsullied by any of these pathetic rutting stags who professed to be competent lovers.

He saved Himself for the right one.

The right one. Him. He saved Himself for their joining and that day, that ecstasy, would be theirs soon.

First one must recover one's strength that his Lover might be brought to the height of passion and one might enjoy His passion in the penultimate fashion. In their first joining he would watch his lover's pleasure as he felt that same pleasure, as he gave it to Him. He had heard of the ultimate bonding, the ultimate lovemaking between telepaths, and he must ensure He knew that passion.

To think not so long ago he had thought them so far apart. He had thought Him to be so far beyond him.

It was not so. Ah, no. It was not so. Not anymore.

Now one could stand on equal footing with the abilities, if not the beauty, of Him. Despair had become expectation with the awakening of his talents and oh, he had come so very far and for the sake of Him one's mind was not as once it was.

He must improve his power and his skills.

He was still lacking and his shortcomings must be remedied with all speed.

The short, sharp stab of pain through his temples reminded him of his lack. But it improved. One was not quite up to preparing their bower as yet. A little more time was required for one to recover from one's most regrettable temper tantrum.

It was most regrettable. One had taken such pains over time to remain unnoticed, and in one moment a regrettable loss of control had resulted in attracting the attention of those it was best to avoid.

It should never have happened.

He was no fool. He had noted Them. He was not so ill that he did not know what occurred within the precincts of the University.

They had come.

He would need to be most cautious not to attract their attention. It was the red head who would be the most dangerous to him. The red head who was, regrettably, most handsome and appeared to be charming, and who might sense him if he chanced to lose control once more.

He could not permit it.

He must take the time to heal and gather together what was required to make Their nights together perfect. Material things he could gather in secret and it would take time to find exactly the right materials. There was another matter which demanded his more immediate attention.

For him to make his lover's night perfect, he would require practise in the genteel art of lovemaking.

The one saving Himself for him was not the only virgin and for one to have Him, to enjoy their passion, one must first learn all there was to know of the art of lovemaking.

He was no stag out for the rut.

He required experience, but he was not into the hunting of sluts and trollops who sought out only the pleasure of the moment, or credits in hand. It was most annoying that amidst such regrettable examples of human kind one would find the knowledge one sought to give pleasure.

One had no other option than to remedy the lack within one's education by making use of what was out there.

Pain seared through him, his head throbbing, threatening to set him cringing into the darkness once more. Too soon. He had left the darkness of his sanctuary too soon and had not been rewarded for his fortitude with even so much as a glimpse of Him.

It was too light, too bright to venture out amidst the unknowing world and he had come far enough for today. Experience taught one with pain the limits one was restricted by, and it was time to retreat into the darkness and sleep through the pain. Sleep would make one stronger.

He needed to gather his strength and his control that he might venture out into the world and learn from those who made of passion a career. One needed to learn of lovemaking and how to caste his lover into the world of Nirvana.

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It was there, somewhere. He knew it was. The answer to the questions they needed answered was lurking within the darkness of a disturbed and distorted mind.

It was there in the anger, in the flashing rage rising beyond sane limits. It was there, in the hidden recesses of a mind generating enough emotion to black out the minds of all those within range of it. It was there within the savage strength used to rip walls apart and tie piping into knots. It was there in the rage which had thrust a refrigerator through a wall.

Was all of this potential the result of drug abuse? Must they now give thoughts to how best to contain black market drugs unleashing chaos on the cities, by producing super talented Psi's with no control or training?

They needed to find this individual, contain him and control him. They needed to teach him control before people began to die; and they would die. One already was dead and he had died from the abuse of psi talent. They needed to stop this man before there were more deaths.

Such anger.

It surrounded him, so intense it came perilously close to being described as living. It fed on itself, growing greater with every passing second, swirling and twisting and turning into a nightmare maze of emotion. He had traced it this deep, creeping along the fringes of it, seeping deeper and deeper into it until his tattered shield forced him to retreat, or surrender to its fury.

Gabriella had strengthened his shields the night before, working with him to repair the tattered screens of protection until the Gypsy had determined they were 'serviceable on a pinch'. He had been dead on his feet and Gabriella not much better when they had called it a night and each retired to their respective beds.

He had returned to the suite and to the maelstrom of anger seeking something, some glimpse, some insight that might be of use to them in hunting the renegade psi. He had hoped to add to their meagre information and perhaps gain some insight into the source of what he was certain was becoming a dangerous infatuation.

He had hoped for the glimpse of a face, or for some sense of identity he could fit to one of the three young men who had lived here. He had hoped to gain impressions, if not outright memories, of the killing. He had hoped for a great deal when he had returned to the suite.

He was, to say the least, disappointed. And exasperated.

//Bloody Gabriella!//

He had not sensed what she had done the night before, when they had worked on his shields. Oh, she could be subtle when she wished. He had not expected her to be so heavy handed in her methods as to limit him, but she had. He had not expected her to compromise his effectiveness in the performance of his duties, to effectively limit him to half of his potential.

//A Level three talent would be of more use to the investigation than I now am!//

She was there, looming large in his mind. A shade, a remnant of her lurked within as a guard stone, dark eyes flashing in warning; Gypsy temper sparking as his every attempt to circumvent her failed.

_Limiting you I am, Naughty Boy, and knowing it will not be thanks from you I am getting for my trouble when next see each other we do. Deeper than this level I have determined is not to be permitted if still wish to be a Prime and sane you do. Grumble and growl and call an old woman many names of the nasty sort as you might, in this Gabriella is knowing what she does is right. When it is working properly we are on shields, know you Gabriella will be most happy to remove this block; and it is a favour Gabriella suggests you do for yourself. Interfere not with the protections in place and try not to pass Gabriella, or learn you will Gabriella still can paddle Naughty Boy's backside ._

He did not believe it. He simply could not believe the infuriating old busy body would have the audacity to interfere with his work. The woman was a horror and law unto herself and she had promised him she would not interfere with his effectiveness in the investigation.

Could he circumvent her attempt to contain him to set limits?

He was furious enough to try, to rip into the blocks and tear them out, but he knew Gabriella would expect him to give it serious thought, and perhaps do the unpardonable and interfere with her handiwork. He was furious.

Furious but not an idiot.

Self preservation was a powerful driving force for any practitioner of Psi and he, being the most sensitive type of Prime talent, was well versed in sensing his limits. He knew just how close he could come to stepping into dangerous territory and though he was not shy of pushing into those limits he never overstepped them.

The infuriating Gypsy pest had set a lighter work limit than he set for himself, and to battle her control points would be to push himself to the brink of exhaustion…

And in the doing fail to bypass her limits.

//Knowing her, the old harpy would have thought to set a trigger to knock me out before I did myself any injury. I can just see how Chang would react to that! Damn, what the hell did I have to lose my temper with Chang for! If I had not taken exception to his comments I would not now have Her lurking in my head with knock out drops of the mental variety at the ready. I can not work to full efficiency with her setting these sorts of limits on me.//

Determined to test the barriers he sensed, Treize pressed gently forward, seeking to find the extent of the resistance of the restraint imposed upon him, and flinched back from what felt very much like a sharp slap to his mental backside.

_Cheeky boy! Testing Gabriella is not an intelligent thing to do, Naughty Boy. In this thing sensible you should be and trusting in Gabriella to be knowing best. Lose you we will not, hearing me are you? Gabriella has no intention of losing her Khushrenada Prime to the curse of the empathic, so getting it through your thick head you will. Gabriella knows best!_

Treize did a mental double take. If he received the mental equivalent of a slap to what his mind associated as the general physical impression of his rump, then he hated to think what Gabriella had set up if he pushed hard against her blocks. He was almost angry enough to throw caution to the wind and give in to temptation to find out, but self preservation was a strong trait amid the Khushrenada family.

No, he was not such a fool that he would push back, at least not without taking some precautions and such would take time and preparation. He might try, biding his time and preparing a full assault purely to demonstrate he was a pig headed idiot who no longer thought it amusing to be ruled by the old harridan.

But perhaps he might be able to subtly work his way through?

He drew himself in to gather in his extended senses he had been employing to examine the maelstrom of anger surrounding him. When he held himself in tight control he extended his mental senses out to either side of what he pictured as a central core, that which was essentially Treize Khushrenada.

He pictured Gabriella's barrier as a physical wall, a little rough, like smoothed sandstone beneath his mental fingers. With this representation firmly pictured he could search the extent of the wall, gliding his 'fingers' over the surface, seeking some weakness without actually pushing against the barrier. It was wasting time, he should be concentrating on hunting the Stalker and the killer, if the two were not one and the same entity, which he was almost certain they were. He should not need to be sneaking around within his own mental awareness, trying to pass a wall stopping him for doing his job.

He was going to have a few choice words to say to the woman when next they met.

It was no wonder she had experienced the need to vacate the city for a few days and visit a 'friend'. She had known it would not be long before he had experienced a need to go deeply into his talent and discovered her manipulation, and that he would not take kindly to her enforced limitations. She also knew he would discover she had been quite thorough about setting her barrier and effectively barred him from accessing the full strength of his talent without a God awful tug of war taking place between them.

His search for a weakness failed miserably, but left him at least with the knowledge that he was a little better than a Level Three talent. She had left him with the capabilities of a Level Two T/E talent.

In a fine fit of pique Treize thrust himself out of his working mode, glaring balefully at the hole in the wall made by the refrigerator, and let loose with a blast of his own considerable anger to fry the psychic atmosphere of the suite.

"Interfering bitch!"

Wu Fei, startled, spun from the window overlooking the car park at the rear of the dormitory block. He had occupied himself by watching the few students to walk near or through the car park, many of whom had paused to admire the sleek vehicle Treize drove.

He had found himself watching the swing of a long rope of hair, the trailing signature braid of Duo Maxwell as he and Quatre Winner arrived, looking around them expectantly. For a few minutes Maxwell had been admiring the Mercedes until a security vehicle had pulled up and Zechs Marquise arrived.

He had been about to pass a comment on the three to Yuy, who was occupying himself poking about the gate leading into the rear stairs used for garbage disposal, when he was startled by a blast of anger and his partner's uncommon outburst.

Wu Fei had never known the aristocrat to openly swear in the presence of others. In fact it was rare for Treize to use a profanity of any nature, particularly one that suggested his target might be female. He was usually the penultimate gentleman, always infuriatingly polite and mannerly.

The aristocrat was known to look down his nose at people who might have been foolish enough to earn his ire, and subject them to an arctic glare to express his displeasure, but to swear in public? No. It simply was not Treize.

"Treize?"

That was no blush of embarrassment at being caught in a moment of unguarded profanity colouring his cheeks, Wu Fei knew. His partner was without a doubt, furious. Anger poured off the Prime talent in waves and a telepathic empath could generate a great deal of anger in a very short time. The room was becoming distinctly uncomfortable to be in.

"Gabriella! The bloody woman has limited me!"

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Gabriella watched the approaching ocean with narrowed eyes. The wide expanse of water glistening in the morning light marked the end to her flight and the beginning of what was sure to be an uncomfortable visit. It was certain to be an unpleasant interview, but it was an interview she would not shirk. On her wits and ability to convince others to follow her direction hung a young life, and she was determined not to shirk her responsibility as the eldest of the Primes.

She had bearded the Khushrenada clan in its entirety, no mean feat as anyone who had had dealings with the family could attest to, to gain custody of a son who had been destined to become Duke. She had won that young man the right to live free as a Prime and she would do no less for a child who believed himself unwanted.

The situation was deplorable.

A Prime talent abandoned as a child, raised practically wild and why, she had to wonder, had he hated the orphanage so much he had run? His empathy, of course, had to feature in the why, but it was a matter for a later time, not now. It was no wonder Zechs Marquise had had so much trouble when he was taken into a University for the elite and expected to conform to the tenants of polite society.

She could understand why the youngling had a complex, but he was no longer alone in his predicament. Now he had Gabriella to take matters in hand. It fell upon her ample shoulders to fix what needed fixing and no one, despite their rank, birth or political aspirations would be permitted to stand in her way.

She was bound and determined to succeed.

Sunlight reflected off the water in a blinding burst of light as the aircraft began to turn into the glide path preparatory to landing. The terminal buildings and landing strips lay beyond the city nestled at the foot of the cliff. She would have the drive into the city in which to give final consideration to her arguments and she must not permit herself to be distracted by the old city reminding her of past days, reigniting the fire of her youth.

It was a very old city, one which always felt comfortable when ever she had occasion to visit, but today the passing inhabitants would not be of interest to her. Today she would not reminisce about old times when she had been young and pretty, and had handsome young men dancing to her tune.

Today it was for a young man she had come to New Port City, though he was not one who would warm her bed and heat her blood. She had come here before, a long time ago, to meet just such a one, but not today. Today, if Gabriella had her way, she would set the stage to give her Naughty Boy the opportunity to claim this one with the pretty eyes.

Of course, she might be mistaken about this entire matter, though the mere thought of it being a mistake was the equivalent of sacrilege. Gabriella did not make mistakes. Certainly not when it came to the safety, and sanity, of Prime talents.

A smirk briefly flittered across her homely face and she sighed softly, settling deeper into her seat.

//Ah. Such a temper.//

It had taken him longer than she had expected to discover what she had done. He was furious; she could feel his anger beating at her through the link which bound their minds. He was incensed by her interference, and she could but hope her naughtiest of Naughty Boys would have cooled his wrath to the level of an arctic blizzard by the time she returned.

She could hope but he was a stubborn one, her Naughty Boy.

//For your own good, Treize Khushrenada. If you continue to push yourself and, in the doing push too far, then not even Gabriella can get you back, my lovely boy. That temper of yours needs containing; and Sexy Eyes will feel you if you do not control yourself. Realize your anger and behave yourself. Five years old you are not, but your butt still will feel my hand.//

The aircraft adjusted its course, overflying the city, dropping lower like some predatory bird and Gabriella found her eyes drawn to the glittering white spires of the castle overlooking the city spread out along the bay.

It was a castle out of fairytales, spires and turrets and high crenulated walls surrounding internal courtyards. Fairytales, she mused. Yes, this was the place for fairytales, perhaps the last place on the Earth where a feudal system still ruled and fairytales fitted in the modern world.

A tourist attraction; that was what it was and it was a constitutional monarchy, though it seemed to her the present King was more apt to rule than the elected Parliament. She had occasion to meet with certain of those representatives of the people, and she was far from impressed.

//It is having some answers before I leave I will, but more, I will be having official custody of my Sexy Eyes. //

She watched the castle until the flight path of the plane hid it from her view and she settled back into her seat.

//I know not what it is you are up to, but I will be having my say and it is listening to every word of it you will be, Stephan.//

It made no difference her appearance here would be unannounced. No one refused to see Gabriella when she requested an audience. No one. This visit to New Port City would be no different and it would not be the first time she had spanked the King of Sanc's royal backside should he prove difficult.

//It is belonging to the Prime's you will be, Zechs Marquise. To the Prime's and to Gabriella.//

t.b.c.

Karina Robertson 2008

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Notes:

Treize Kushrenada : Level 10 Sending/Receiving Telepath + Receiving and Projecting Empath at Level 10. Prime rated. Agency Operative contracted term of 5 years with 2 years remaining. [25yrs of age] Training facility: Psychic Institute Munich Division.

Chang Wu Fei: Level 9 Telekinetic + Receiving Telepath Level 5. Agency Operative contracted term of 10 years with 8 years remaining, [22yrs of age] Training facility:Psychic Institute Luxemburg Division.

Heero Yuy: ESUN Security Agency Elite Operative. Government sanctioned Genetic enhancements performed by Romefeller Genetic Laboratory, Tokyo for adult service as Security Enhanced Operative. No Psychic Talent. Genetic induced enhancements include enhanced Strength, Hearing, Speed and Olfactory senses. Assigned regularly to liaison with The Agency's psychic agents. [21 / 22 years old]

Zechs Marquise: Psi Student 5th year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Level 10 Receiving/Projecting Empath [approaching Prime Designation] + Level 9 Sending /Receiving Telepath, Projected L10 function. Finder function suspected, not officially registered. Country of origin, Luxemburg. [20 years of age]

Gabriella : Romany descent. Level 10 Sending / Receiving Telepath + Level 10 Receiving and Projecting Empath. Prime Rated. Training facility rumored to be Government Laboratories of the Prussian Republic deposed in the year AC 45. Age: Unknown [rumored to be approximately seventy four]. Oldest of the Prime Telepathic Empaths.


	28. Chapter 28

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 28/??

_Italics_ telepathy

Many thanks to ShenLong Deb for betaing this chapter.

Chapter Twenty Eight

He had the distinct feeling they were in serious trouble.

Wu Fei had never had the dubious pleasure of being near Treize when the Prime was generating such rage. In his opinion the word 'anger' did not do the raw emotion emanating from the man justice. Not even when Wu Fei had cast aspirations on his ethics over his interest in a certain blonde student had Treize generated such powerful emotion.

The very air around the Prime seemed to shimmer with the force of his temper and Wu Fei felt his hackles rising in response. He wanted nothing more than to shift his backside out the door with as much speed as he could muster… and Chang Wu Fei could muster quite a turn of speed if the occasion called for it.

He was, however, the man's partner and his back up.

There was no one else in their immediate vicinity with an iota of knowledge usable in this situation and thus the responsibility fell to him. As the nearest Psi registered talent and as an Agency employee, the man's partner, he had to step into the field of danger and attempt to assist the Prime in regaining control of his abilities. He wanted to make himself scarce but he could not forget where they were.

Tsuberov was a school for the Psychically gifted and there were vulnerable young people at risk. By the time they could get the University training staff involved it would be too late; for everyone, including Treize.

The best thing he could do, Chang decided, would be to remind the Prime of just where they were and that he was not alone in the room. Treize had to moderate his reaction for the comfort and safety of others.

A quick glance toward the third body in the room revealed a very wary Heero Yuy edging toward the door and escape. An eminently sensible reaction, Wu Fei decided. Yuy was not keen on the idea of lingering in the immediate vicinity if the Prime was about to lose whatever control remained to him and Yuy certainly had no defence against a Prime run amuck.

Not that Wu Fei himself stood much of a chance against the man. He might have all of a second to attempt to knock Treize out using his kinetic talent, but that would be his one and only chance should Treize lose control.

The fact he was still capable of thinking and feeling his own thoughts and emotions, instead of reflecting the unreasoning anger of the Prime, indicated that Treize had not, as yet, lost control of himself. It was decidedly uncomfortable to be so near the man, and no doubt that discomfort would be extending out further and further beyond the room. Uncomfortable, not impossible, that was the important thing just now.

Beyond the confines of the room it would be the telepaths and empaths who would feel the wave of emotion first, and they would succumb to it as quickly as their shields crumbled beneath the force of it. Some would last longer than others, but no one would last long enough for the med teams to arrive and sedate the source of the disruption.

What was he to do? What could he do against the man? Knock him out using kinetic talent and pay the consequences if he failed at the first try? He might give the man permanent brain damage; the strike would need to be quick and therefore the force could not be completely controlled and the human brain was a delicate organ.

"Treize?! Shields man!"

How utterly ineffective to shout at the man like an enraged fishwife.

The tide of anger sweeping out from the Prime snapped off with the immediacy of someone switching off an electrical appliance, leaving a charged but harmless emptiness in its wake.

All Wu Fei could do was blink owlishly in the sudden release.

He drew a relieved breath, staggering as though a weight pushing him backwards had been removed. He could feel his heart rate begin to slow and his limbs beginning to tremble as his body reacted to the adrenaline surge incited by an anger not his own.

"Treize?"

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It was deplorable.

His loss of control, even for a few seconds, was utterly reprehensible.

He was a Prime talent and trained to exacting measures to effect control at all times for the safety of others. He was a Prime, of the order of the highest ranking users of psi, not a rank beginner spreading their thoughts and emotions for all the world to sample.

He should have had more control.

He should have greater control than to lash out in rage.

Treize would not be surprised if he later learned his physical form was shaking as he fought to contain his fury. His anger was justified, in his view, though no doubt that incorrigible old harridan would disagree. How dare Gabriella interfere with his working talent during an investigation of this magnitude. It would require his best, his exacting sensitivity at full reach, to solve the present situation, and how was he to give his best if she had limited his abilities?

But there was no excuse for losing himself in generating his rage and broadcasting it for anyone and everyone to feel, including the perpetrator of the crime. Should the killer learn he was not at his best it would give the stalker confidence and do nothing to contain his activities. That placed lives needlessly at risk.

He needed to regain control as no one needed to know his supreme rage at the affront her manipulations were to his professionalism.

It was not even Chang who had been the deciding factor and snapped him back from that immediate flare of outrage, though Treize determined never to permit Wu Fei to know it. The man was insufferable enough as it was when it came to his 'holier than thou' attitude, but should he learn who had stepped into the breach in his shields, Treize would never hear the end of it. Chang would consider his criticism justified if he knew the enquiring and very concerned 'presence' in his mind belonged to a young man who certainly had no need to be distressed by the emotions of a man who was ticked off with the high handed methods of a pushy old woman.

"Treize? Limited you?"

Chang was nearby, he could 'feel' his presence more than hear him. He was tightly drawn into a ball of unwilling emotion. Worried, almost terrified, and with good reason, Treize was forced to admit. Chang was wishing he was anywhere but in the presence of an angry T/E Prime with tattered shields that were the only protection the innocent unknowingly had.

Somewhere nearby, Treize received the impression of flowers and sunshine surrounding the presence of Zechs Marquise.

The young man's psi function appeared to be linked to Treize, a by product of their contact the night before and evidence of the further manipulating nature of that terrible old woman who ran his life. Unknown to him or to the young blonde, it appeared Gabriella had established a link between the three of them and through it Zechs had received a blast of the Prime's anger.

The young man well might have been overcome by that tide of anger.

Gabriella had chanced much by leaving the link binding them intact and, in the process, exposing all three of them to legality issues. Nor was it just the legality of the unorthodox situation which Treize would have to face and come to terms with. It was what might have happened to the blonde who, all unknowing, had borne the brunt of his flare of temper. There was the additional possibility, in that surge of contact between them, that there was potential for a leakage of confidential information pertaining to the case and potentially compromising the investigation.

Not to mention the horror of knowing that he might have dropped the younger man into unconsciousness with the intensity of his rage. He could have so easily overwhelmed Zechs and sent him into deep trauma.

It appeared, once again, the old witch had succeeded in manipulating events to best suit her.

He had not killed, or made a vegetable, of Zechs Marquise and he had regained control of himself and been reminded of the inherent dangers of his talents.

The searing surge of his rage had opened the link he had thought closed the night before; and how had the manipulating Gabriella hidden that bond? She was a devious old biddy, plotting and scheming and laying safety measures wherever her schemes chanced to unravel.

For the latter he supposed he should be grateful.

It was to the shy blonde with the crystalline clear shields as tough as diamonds, that the university owed the sanity of its telepaths and empaths this day.

"Treize?"

The shields of the soon to be Prime had extended out to envelope him and snapped down, sealing Marquise and Treize behind a wall which felt disturbingly, and delightfully, like a protective embrace. Just as Gabriella would have intended should he have reacted badly to her manipulation.

As if he would react any other way than badly to discovering his capabilities had been curtailed and his professional integrity compromised. What information had the old woman lifted from his mind regarding this and other cases? Did he dare think she would not have rifled through his mind while she set up her limits?

Was there anything Gabriella would not dare?

Damn her and her deft touch.

Zechs was there now, lingering in the Prime's awareness, a gentle and secure strength filling Treize's perceptions, offering silent comfort and support. His curiosity was very much in evidence, that was to be expected, yet it was controlled. The quiet tranquillity Treize found within this enveloping protection quite frankly astonished the older man, and he could do little other than allow it to leach out his rage and replace it with something far more stable and pleasant.

Treize could feel Marquise relaxing as he gained control and restored his mental equilibrium. It must have been far from pleasant for the younger psi to have been drawn into the maelstrom of emotion, but he generated calming warmth Treize could all too easily languish in for eternity.

And Marquise had been worried that his shields were weak? Treize determined to review the latest test results of the younger man and determine just how sensitive a talent he could claim.

_Thank you. I must apologise for my unbecoming, and exceedingly unprofessional, loss of control_.

_It was… my pleasure to be of assistance but… what happened? I felt… your anger was… directed… at Prime Gabriella?_

Treize could feel the younger man searching for words designed not to offend, or trespass, on what he considered shaky ground. The young man was well aware of Treize's position, both socially and professionally.

_She has placed limits on your talent… but why? Why would she do this? Placing limits on another Psi is a serious breach of etiquette._

He would need to tread carefully as the last thing he needed was for Zechs to be afraid of Gabriella. The woman had only the best of intentions, but her methods often left Treize trembling, whether from amusement or anger, or simple fear, depended on the circumstances. They wanted to take Zechs into the fold; protect the younger man from what appeared to be an uncertain future.

He could not afford to have Marquise fear the old woman, not now, and that too was a consideration he knew the old gypsy would have known he would consider. They needed to have Zechs' willing cooperation to effectively remove him from the questions surrounding his future and to offer him the protection of the unique family that was the T/E Primes.

_However, regrettably, sometimes it is necessary to place restraints upon a talent. I have been engaged in high level and taxing work recently, and I am due a period of rest to revitalize my shields and unwind. It is now apparent that Gabriella felt the need existed to ensure I did not fully extend my abilities; though she should have had the manners to mention it before she accomplished the deed and thereafter bolted._

How could he call the old witch all the names under the sun when she had made such a positive impression on Marquise? In short order she had taken the place of a matronly grandmother in the younger man's psyche; cementing her place there with the promise he was no longer alone. She had assured him that she would be there for him and take on his problems: solving those he could not and being there when he needed her. It was something the younger man had not had, a family, and he would thirst for it.

How could Treize ruin that?

It was exactly what she had done for Treize at the beginning of their association. She had taken the place in his heart his relations domination had caused him to harden. He had been rebelling against all that was his ancient bloodline, fighting with those who had been named his Guardian's on his parent's deaths. They had chosen to ignore his awakening Psi talents in favour of their own plans completion to retain the dynasty and control of the family fortune and title.

She had promised to be there for him and he had never really regretted her presence in his life; though that did not mean he had to take her heavy handed interference lightly.

"Treize? Are you alright? Do I need to call in a support med team?"

Chang. He would have set the wind up his partner's back with his fury. Wu Fei had been warned repeatedly on what could happen if his T/E partner ever lost his restraint and let loose with his talent. It must have more than frightened him after Gabriella's lecture, and the last thing Treize wanted was to draw attention from the Med Teams employed by the Agency to govern their psychic employee's mental and physical health.

He could feel Chang's anxiety, his growing belief he would need to call for assistance. Indeed, he was rather surprised Chang had not already done so. Maintaining the link with Zechs, he was loathe to let it fall away from him so soon, Treize concentrated on his optic vision, filtering a view of the room into his talent. He was rewarded with a view of Chang watching him with wary concern, though admittedly holding his ground. Yuy, he noted, was slowly edging toward the door.

The anger of a Prime level Empathic Telepath could kill if unbridled and both these men seemed only too aware of that fact. It was a pity that should he actually have lost all control they would not have had the time to take a single step, let alone cross the debris strewn room, and make good their escape.

_Oh my…_

Marquise.

He grasped at his temper, reining it back and containing it behind his shields, taking advantage of the assistance offered by Zechs. What the hell was he supposed to say to the young man who, through his eyes, had glimpsed the destruction of the suite? That was more than unfortunate, but it was an unavoidable by product of their current link.

First thing was first and he must settle his partner down lest he summon the med team. With the protection offered by the younger man's shields there was no reason for others to feel the discomfort of his pique with Gabriella; not Chang nor Yuy, or the students of the University.

Not Marquise either.

There were talents in the surrounding gardens and buildings with little to no shields available to them. Not all of the buildings were shielded against Psi intrusion, and even a non psi would go down beneath unbridled talent such as his. This was a school, a place for training the talents of the young and he needed to have more control over himself.

_Thank you, Zechs. I have control now and the use of your shields was more than timely and, if I might say so, quite expertly executed._

He was loathe to let the contact fall away but he had no other option. Only seconds would have passed and he could hope Zechs had been alone and no one would ask him awkward questions. He did not wish to be brusque but Zechs would have classes to attend and he had a job to do.

_I… was pleased to be of help._

The shy and less than confident young man was back, replacing the confident professional in the making Treize had glimpsed. He found it more than endearing and longed to linger in the contact, and for that reason he knew he had to end their merge.

_You will make a fine Prime talent and I will look forward to your joining our group. Forgive me, but I had best calm my partner before he does something we will regret. He looks to be about to faint at the prospect of having to calm me. Thank you, Zechs Marquise, and I am afraid I must request you keep what you have learned secret. From everyone_.

For a moment the contact strengthened, reminiscent of a warm hand squeezing his shoulder in reassurance and then the contact fell away. Treize was left to his own mind and a deepening regret at the loss of warmth and the feel of shields to rival Gabriella's in security. If the clarity and strength of those shields was a mark of the training to be had at Tsuberov, then Zechs Marquise had been served well by being placed here.

He drew a deep breath, rising swiftly through the layers of consciousness. Work now, more pleasant contemplations when he gained the privacy of his loft and the time to enjoy a thorough examination of their contact.

Yuy, he noted was near the door, feet picking a careful path through the debris, boot shod feet splashing in the water soaking the carpet with every careful step. The man looked as though he thought any sound might set off an explosion, and Treize supposed it might well have, if he had lost control and not merely engaged in a moment of honest temper.

Wu Fei had stood his ground, though his body had that 'ready for action' look about it. Whether that action might have been to leap bravely, but stupidly, on the irate psi or throw himself toward the questionable safety of the door was another matter.

"My sincere apologies, gentlemen. I assure you I am not about to emulate the last psi to experience a temper tantrum in this suite. You can relax."

Yuy froze at the sound of his voice and looked to Chang, no doubt determining to take his cue from the Agency operative. For his part Wu Fei actually shuddered, a shivering movement Treize could not miss for all Wu Fei would have tried to hide it. He honestly had scared his partner and Treize decided he would need to make some sort of amends.

"What the hell happened, Treize?"

Wu Fei made no move to relax and neither did Yuy. He supposed they had been told enough horror stories of high talent psi's losing control to ensure they looked at him in askance for the next week. This would be wonderful for their working relationship, having them tip toe around him. He could see there was no hope what-so-ever this incident would not go unreported either to the Agency through Chang, or to the Security Agency through Yuy.

Wonderful, he would face a psyche exam for certain.

"I am afraid Gabriella happened. It appears, in her infinite wisdom and sea of good intentions, she has placed a control limit over the use of my talent."

Wu Fei looked blank for a moment, clearly not believing what he had heard and Yuy just looked confused. Well he could understand that, Yuy knew next to nothing about psi.

"What that means, Mr. Yuy, is that effectively Gabriella has limited me in the use of deep scanning techniques, and it is highly possible that other functions of my talent have been affected. I will require a little time in which to investigate the triggers she has set and to determine what I will be capable of doing in the pursuit of this case."

Wu Fei glanced at Yuy who, after a wide eyed look at the Prime, shrugged. He knew little about Psi, it was outside the parameters of his training and he would need to be guided by others. The kinetic talent decided caution was the better part of valour; he had no intention of further aggravating his partner and certainly had no intention of coming to the attention of the evil woman who had, it appeared, taken it upon herself to interfere in their case.

"This is… an unexpected complication. Will her interference strongly affect the direction of the investigation?"

"Of course it will!" Treize snapped then immediately hissed and looked contrite. "I'm sorry Wu Fei, this is not your fault and I have no right to snap at you. Please accept my profound apologies. Gabriella and I will be having an extensive discussion upon her return, concerning her heavy handed methods of containing me to what she terms 'safe limits'."

"One would think if the Prime saw fit to establish the limitations, it means you required them," Yuy murmured as he returned to his former position at the garbage disposal door.

Treize did not know what his physical reaction to the observation was, but Chang blanched visibly and motioned urgently in placating gestures. Deciding to forego the explanation of exactly what it was about the limiting blocks that upset him, Treize merely contented himself with a low and wordless growl.

Wu Fei looked anything but appeased by his reaction.

"One does not merely slap limiting blocks in another Psi's mind," Wu Fei informed Heero. "There are more than a few laws against using psi in that manner. Such treatment is required by law to go through a process of approval and the subject has the legal right to appeal, however, should it be done it has to be performed under controlled conditions. It is never done without the full knowledge of the subject."

Treize nodded when Yuy looked to him to confirm Chang's comments. It was a brief explanation which missed out more than a few of the requirements for such an action to be performed, but they had neither the time, nor was this the place, for such a discussion.

"One usually does not find out one has had one's wings clipped in the middle of performing a scan. If you would be so kind as to permit me a few minutes to explore the extent of her blocks, I can more accurately gage the limitations and how it will affect my performance in the course of the investigation. I assure you that as soon as Gabriella returns to the city I will have her remove her handiwork, or I will go in after the blocks myself and, thereafter, she will have a bigger mess to clean up. In the mean time, there are other angles we can pursue."

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Wu Fei nodded, a mere inclination of his head to acknowledge the truth of that statement, and turned back to the window. His partner required a few minutes and he could take the time to consider the implications to their investigations and to their lives in general. All protocols he had been drilled in required he inform his superiors of the incident and no doubt Treize would not be amused if he did.

This woman, the Prime Gabriella, was proving to be most bothersome. Her presence in the city was the direct result of his, as his wife had so delicately phased it, shoving his foot into the cavernous opening of his mouth. In effect, it was all his fault.

Had he not committed an unpardonable sin by accusing the Prime of breaching the moral code a telepath lived by, then his partner would not have lost his temper and drawn the Prime's attention to them. Once upon a time he had thought the clan elders to be a trial when they were displeased with him. However unlikely it seemed, the elders were amateurs compared to the horrendous Gypsy at making him feel like an errant three year old.

He had been a terrible child and had always seemed to be in trouble. Escaping the colony when his psi gift had been tagged had come as a relief. It had opened up a world of potential the child of the clan had never before considered would be available to him.

Now all he could do was wonder what they were to do with the woman. Limiting the Agency's Prime in what he could do was interfering in the investigation in no small way. There was simply no way they could avoid informing their Commander of the reduced capabilities now available to them. Of course Commander Une had been on the receiving end of one of Gabriella's lectures, so she would have at least some understanding of the woman's methods. He rather received the impression Treize had had no idea before now that his function was impaired.

//No doubt this explains the hasty departure from the city. Gabriella determined a strategic withdrawal was in order until he calms down. I can understand that, the man has a temper for all he is usually Mr. Calm and controlled. But until, and unless, she lifts the blocks she has placed and frees Treize of the restraints he is now under, what do we do?//

Their target was a high powered psi and Wu Fei had no illusions how he would fare against a Prime level Telepathic or Empathic killer. He might stand a chance if it was simply kinetic against kinetic, but against someone with Treize's abilities and a penchant for killing…

//We could be at a serious disadvantage.//

Movement below the window caught his attention and he recalled the three students who were unknowingly mixed up in the investigation.

Marquise appeared to be well rested, he noted as he watched the blonde stretch and for a moment he had a full view of the young man's face. Duo Maxwell was almost dancing circles around the two blondes, gesturing expansively and constantly moving. Winner seemed to ignore the antics of his companion and the three walked from the car park to one of the paths leading deeper into the grounds.

//They would have classes.//

From his vantage point Wu Fei could see the three security guards moving about in the immediate area, none obviously watching the students but never-the-less present. As the threesome moved off Wu Fei found himself watching the shift in the guards; two falling back to a discrete distance as they moved out of sight. One of the three strode off a little ahead of the students, as though he had a duty to attend, and he possibly did, as none of the students paid him any attention.

The remaining two guards fell into discrete flanking positions, both maintaining a discrete distance and shadowed the three until they moved out of his line of sight. From ground level Wu Fei doubted anyone would have notice the guards were following the three; they had been well spaced apart and the garden beds would have obscured at least two of the men from the sight of the three students at all times.

//Otto does appear to have them well watched.// He approved the precaution.

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New York, New York

For centuries the city had worn the title, 'city that never sleeps' and Noin had to admit, since arriving three weeks ago, the city had always been active around her. Admittedly at night there was a great reduction in the sheer mass of humanity active in the daylight hours, but to the eyes of a simple country girl the reduced crowds still constituted too many people for her comfort.

You could take the girl out of the country, but you could not take the country out of the girl.

She missed her quiet Italian village where little had changed in centuries, where the heat of a summer afternoon demanded the location of shade and a breezeway be known. She was desperate for some authentic Italian food, not what passed for it in this seething mass of constantly moving humanity. If there was actual authentic Italian cooking to be had in the city she had yet to find it, but above all, she missed the people.

In New York everyone was in a hurry. Everyone had to be somewhere half an hour ago and no one had the time of day to so much as smile at the stranger walking past.

She longed for old Mama Maria and her quiet, herb filled house, old man Mario and his goats and the garlic hanging in the kitchen; the ripe tomatoes on the chopping board with bunches of fresh herbs waiting to be chopped for the saucepan. She missed the cool shade offered by the old olive trees, the bright geraniums under the windows and the sound of the goat bells; the laughter of the younger children chasing hoops through the town.

She was a big girl now and living beyond those stony country hills and the olive groves of her native land. Had she remained in the village of her birth she would have been married to Gerogio now, perhaps with a child or two and no doubt quite content not to be a part of the wider world.

With the conclusion of the current case she had hoped to return, if only briefly, to her home town to rest. Simply breathing in the country air for a day or two would have meant so much to her, but no, it was not to be. She was stuck with the perpetually smoggy air of the city and the need to lay the dead to rest. There was always someone, somewhere, who required her particular services. Some days she regretted the arrival, in the old cobbled market square, of the tall woman with the no nonsense attitude, designer suit and black briefcase.

The arrival of that sophisticated woman had marked the end of Noin's lazy days as a teen in the quiet rural backwater.

"I must admit I was sceptical at first about the use of Psychics in an investigation of this type. I am delighted to have been proven wrong and unashamed to say I will miss you."

She was a professional now, a Medium of the highest order, A Prime talent in her field, not that quiet country teenager who, when her 'gift' had become known around the village, had been asked to quiet the restless dead. Not that there had been many of them, but word had spread and she had been asked to 'visit' with the dead of the surrounding villages. That was how word of her gift had reached the ears of the Parapsychic Institute's field division testing children in a nearby village.

Thereafter her life had irrevocably changed.

"I have found most people are sceptical of my skills at first. It is most common for the non psi to consider me a freak… or a charlatan."

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She was not a tall woman and she was slender with a good figure and quite young. Much younger than the portly man had expected when he was first informed he would be working with a Prime level Medium. The case featured a serial killer they had hunted unsuccessfully for four years, and suddenly they were informed the skills of a psychic medium were at their disposal and they were expected to solve the case post haste.

He had thought, when his Chief had first informed him of the idea, that his Chief was, to put it politely, nuts.

Admittedly they had needed to try something different, the killer had been running rings around them, and not surprisingly so when he now considered the identity of that killer. Even the efforts of the best criminal profiler in the department had been unable to lead them to their perpetrator. Something new had needed to be done, something that might circumvent the near omniscient abilities of the killer, but to pull in a tealeaf reader? He had thought the man was reaching at straws and frankly had told him so.

It had taken this twenty one year old woman with the oddly violet-blue eyes and short cropped black hair to give them their vital clue as to the identity of the killer and bring him to ground. It had taken help from the dead, from the killer's victims themselves, to nail the bastard who had been laughing at their best efforts.

When he had first met Lucrezia Noin he had not known what to think. She was certainly not what he had expected a Prime talent to be. The woman was so ordinary, so young and, of course, there was the small matter that he had not believed in ghosts.

At least not until he had had occasion to sit down with the woman and have her demonstrate her skills in relation to his own personal life.

She had terrified him, torn his world apart and proven to him that despite his belief in his own worldly experience, he knew precisely nothing about the mind and determination of the female of the species. He now knew men to be so much less complicated than women

On their first meeting he had found himself pinned in place by those intense eyes which had seemed to have trouble meeting his gaze. A certain sign, he had thought, of the woman realizing he knew her to be a charlatan. She had kept looking over his right shoulder as they had been introduced and they shook hands, an action she had initiated. It surprised him and was another nail in the coffin of belief of her authenticity as, had they not stated in the initial briefing before she arrived, that the psychically aware avoided physical touch.

She had stepped toward him, hand extended with such an air of authority that to take her hand had been an ingrained reflex. At the touch he had noted her lips quirk up into an odd little smile and there after it seemed to him, she had focused on him with a disquieting intensity.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Detective. I am informed you are not particularly comfortable with the idea of working with a Medium."

Well, there was no beating about the bush with the girl, she obviously liked to come straight to the point, and he was not one to prevaricate either. It was an invitation to express his concerns, but given he considered himself to be a gentleman, and the girl was almost young enough to be his daughter, and there was the fact the Chief was watching him with narrowed eyes in open warning, he had to be polite about his views.

"I'm sure my objections are nothing you have not already dealt with in the past and that we will come to an understanding soon enough."

In other words, he would tell her to take a seat and let him get on with the real work of finding the elusive serial killer. He knew she understood him when her eyes narrowed just a little and hardened, but the smile stayed in place, as did the confidence.

"Indeed, we will."

Had he half a brain he should have been afraid then, but he had always been a fool when it came to women.

Lucrezia Noin had given the appearance of being the consummate professional during the briefing presided over by his Chief. She had asked all of the right questions when the opportunity presented itself, proving at some stage she had received some training in police procedures and the reading of forensic material. It was not until they had concluded the briefing and were in the privacy of his office, away from everyone else, that she dropped the bombshell.

"First, it is not my usual modus operandi to leap in feet first, but your mother is quite insistent about asking for forgiveness. She has been lurking at your shoulder for the last fifteen years and quite frankly she is eager to get on."

What could one say? His laugh had been anything but mirthful, but then the blue-violet eyes had been anything but amused. She had stared not at him, but just to the right and behind his shoulder where, when he looked, there proved to be nothing but his hat stand.

"My apologies, but there is no gentle way to say this. I get the impression you are a forthright individual who does not like dancing around a topic. Therefore, your mother wishes to ask forgiveness for interfering in your marriage. Quite frankly, she lied about your wife having an affair, and Francesca was pregnant with your daughter."

He had not known what to do or say. He had known his mother had been domineering and less than happy about his marriage to Francesca, but he had been handling her… or so he had thought. A series of confrontations between the two women had seen the strain reach a point where he cringed at the very thought of the two being in the same room together.

Over the course of five years his relationship with his wife had become strained to the point where they had gone through a messy divorce after his mother had shown him evidence of Francesca's infidelity. Her parting words to him were that he was an idiot to believe she would cheat on him and that their daughter was not his child.

It had very nearly broken him, particularly as his mother had died little more than twelve months later and he had found himself alone. It was odd though, he had always felt that his mother was still with him, still looking out for him, and to learn that she was indeed hovering near him was, to say the least, disconcerting.

She was a firebrand, this Italian woman, up front and honest and understanding of scepticism. Some things you had to experience for yourself before you could believe, and he was now a believer. Her unique touch with the dead had seen, in three weeks, an arrest of a highly placed law enforcement officer, and himself convinced to forgive his mother and approach Francesca and see if he might not mend some bridges.

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"Never the less, Lucrezia, I apologize for doubting your abilities and treating you as less than the professional you have proven yourself to be. I considered myself fairly open minded, until I was told I was to have the assistance of someone who talks to the dead."

"It is not something many people feel comfortable about discussing, Alonzo. It has its good points and its bad, like most other professions and abilities. Being considered a money grabbing sensationalist feeding off the grief of others is part and parcel of being a Medium."

He winced. "I never quite went that far."

"Others are not so generous as you. I hope we can work together again in the future."

He stood as she did, turning her back from the window to face him and extend her hand. She was uncommon amongst psi's, he had learned, in that she craved physical touch. He supposed having the insubstantial dead surround her would lead one to ensure the person one was talking to was solid flesh and blood.

"I'll be sure to ask for you by name if we should again have need of a Medium. You take care now, where ever you are heading to. I was hoping to take you to this little Italian restaurant I know, where they make the best pasta and sauces."

Well that was just typical. She might have found something that tasted reminiscent of home and not a poor imitation, but such was not to be. But still, if the fates were kind, she might find herself back and, if not working with this man, then at least able to visit with him.

"I hope to be back in New York around Christmas. If the invitation is still open, I might look you up."

"My dear Lucrezia, you visit whenever you pass through and I will buy you lunch or dinner, which ever is the more appropriate."

"I have to admit I will miss the bagel lunches," Lucrezia laughed.

Bagels had become a staple of his diet, with donuts for dessert, since his mother's death. If Francesca would see him he would need to remember to offer her something different. It was time he turned his life around.

"So, where is your next stop?"

"Luxemburg. I have an unidentified corpse, a murder victim, whose spirit I need to have a little chat to so that I might provide him with an identity, and hopefully some justice. Take care, Alonzo."

Given she had been placed on a high orbital shuttle she knew her presence was considered to be urgently required. A one stop flight, New York to Luxemburg courtesy of the Agency, but at least she would be able to nap without the distractions she normally faced. In space, unless she was unfortunate enough to be assigned a shuttle in which someone had died in an unsatisfactory manner, she could rest undisturbed by the dead.

Sometimes the restless dead were a little too much to take, even for her, and she could only wonder what the new case awaiting her would bring.

Being a Prime level Medium her particular skills were on call only to what was judged to be the neediest of cases. Alonzo's case had acquired twenty three victims over the course of four years before someone had convinced the powers that be that a high level Medium might make a difference. This request for her services had come from the Agency and was underwritten by the ESUN Security Agency's investigations division. It was more than sufficient to inform her the case was of particular importance, not that anyone would dare to waste the time of a certified Prime talent.

The briefing she had received from her office stated her particular skills would be required to identify the spirit of a murder victim. The subtle warning that there was something else involved had been subtly woven through the wording of the official request for her services. That oblique warning was enough to arouse her curiosity and ensure she accepted the request.

There was another reason she had accepted the case, of course. Something decidedly more profound on a personal level. The news she would be working along side the T/E Prime talent Treize Khushrenada would, if all worked out, give her the chance to size up the man and perhaps sound him out on his thoughts of fathering the first of her contract children.

A car had been waiting out front of the precinct building to take her to the shuttle port. The staff were polite and efficient and within minutes she was settled comfortably on board the shuttle and listening to the first rumblings of the engines.

Lucrezia smiled. Unlike other professional working psi's she would not approach a prospective sire exclusively through the use of legal representatives. Treize Khushrenada had proven particularly resistant to such overtures in the past few years, and she knew he had had a regrettable experience or two with eager female talents out to snare his genetics.

She was not such a fool as to think that there was anything in particular about her that would tempt the man. She would not leap into the matter of producing an heir without first ensuring they could deal fairly together. She would have the opportunity at some point during the investigation to personally speak to him and sound him out on whether or not he was ready to father another child.

She knew he had sired that feisty little red headed granddaughter of the Barton clan, and that the contract was quite a hefty sized legal document. She might, if she decided to approach him, be able to learn what contractual obligations he might consider and not have their individual legal agencies interfering and squabbling over conditions and clauses before they were ready to actually approach the legalities of the matter.

In her opinion, producing a child should be much more personal than merely fulfilling contractual obligations with the government.

She was not bothered by his reported homosexuality, indeed quite the contrary. It would possibly incline him towards accepting her overtures. He was a Duke after all and was required to provide children for his lineage, as well as pass on his unique gene set for the generations of the future. Of the prospective sires to be found in the top echelons of Psi society, those with talent listed at level two or Prime, she was favourable to only three. Of those three males Duke Treize Khushrenada was top of her list.

//I can be subtle when it suits me. I'll just have to pick the best time to approach him and sound him out on his thoughts on adding a second contracted child to his extended family. He agreed to the Barton contract, and he is obligated by law to provide at least three children. I don't see why one of those three could not be mine.//

t.b.c

Karina Robertson 2009

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Authors Notes:

Treize Kushrenada : Level 10 Sending/Receiving Telepath + Receiving and Projecting Empath at Level 10. Prime rated. Agency Operative contracted term of 5 years with 2 years remaining. [25yrs of age] Training facility: Psychic Institute Munich Division.

Chang Wu Fei: Level 9 Telekinetic + Receiving Telepath Level 5. Agency Operative contracted term of 10 years with 8 years remaining, [22yrs of age] Training facility:Psychic Institute Luxemburg Division.

Heero Yuy: ESUN Security Agency Elite Operative. Government sanctioned Genetic enhancements performed by Romefeller Genetic Laboratory, Tokyo for adult service as Security Enhanced Operative. No Psychic Talent. Genetic induced enhancements include enhanced Strength, Hearing, Speed and Olfactory senses. Assigned regularly to liaison with The Agency's psychic agents. [21 / 22 years old]

Lucrezia Noin: Italian. Prime Level Medium [Clairaudient] Talent. Level 6 Send / Receive Telepath. Training facility, Psychic Institute Rome Division. [21 years of age]


	29. Chapter 29

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 29/??

//…// Thoughts

~/_Italics_/~ Telepathy

Many thanks to ShenLong Deb for betaing this chapter.

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 29/??

Chapter Twenty Nine

"Yo, Zechsy! Enjoy your beauty sleep? I was beginning to think you would not turn up today!"

Zechs noticed Quatre wince at Duo's bellow as his driver brought the car to a standstill. No one he knew, other than Duo, could hope to match that volume without looking like they were straining against severe constipation.

"Thank you for the lift in," he murmured politely to his driver who nodded and grinned at him, quite entertained by Duo's antics.

"Duo, please! There is no need to shout. There is plenty of time for us all to get to classes, and you know Zechs was up late. I'm sure he was exhausted. "

"Enjoy your day, sir."

He had not expected to be greeted in the car park by his friends, but Quatre and the ever bouncy Duo were there, waiting. How they had known when he would arrive he did not know, though he supposed they might have been walking in the gardens and simply noticed the car. They had probably taken a short cut to meet him here. In a training institute for the psychically aware not even something as simple as good timing could be taken for granted.

For a second or so, as he opened the car door, he thought he 'felt' an unease, an unusual reserve emanating from Quatre. More disturbing still, Duo's initial psychic impression was markedly at odds with the wide grin and jaunty cockiness Zechs normally associated with his friend. His answering smile faltered for a second before, as his foot contacted the ground, he had something else much more shocking to deal with.

It was a momentary thing, a flash of searing emotion which blocked out all awareness of the world around him. It demanded of him a response the like of which he had not thought himself capable of. His reaction was instinctive, an automatic response to danger and, had they known of his action, his trainers would be more than content with their years of work to develop his talent.

Zechs threw up shields to protect himself, even as he found his awareness plunging deeply into his talent, tracing the rising tide of emotion to its source and he thrust himself into the awareness of a very angry Treize Khushrenada.

He knew here, within this linkage of mind to mind, the constraints of time meant nothing. Thoughts flew faster than seconds and what he assumed might be hours could in reality be days, or milliseconds, in the temporal reality of the mundane world. That he was caught in mid motion on leaving the car meant nothing to him. He found himself polishing and refining his shields to contain not only his own talent, but that of a ranked Prime who surely would kill someone if he did not gain control of himself.

He did not think of Prime talents as being capable of something as mundanely human as flying into a rage, and he had no idea what could upset one to the point he would unthinkingly threaten a few hundred training psychics. Even as the thought occurred to him he could feel the Prime reining back his temper, bolstering tattered shields and steadying himself.

Tattered shields?

He sensed shields that were far from effective in containing the flood of emotion. These were shields that, on first glance, were little more effective than the mess his own shields had been on first entering Tsuberov. How was it possible that these tatty shards were the shields of a working Prime?

A person's shields were their safeguard against the multitudes. They were to be maintained, refined and strengthened at all times, this was what he had been trained to achieve; perfection for his own self preservation. It was an automatic reaction in the face of such disorder that he began to effect repairs, to bridge the thinning and ripped fabric with something more substantial.

A presence surrounded him, enfolding him; mental impression of hands covering his as he worked to bridge a particularly ragged gap… what?

What was he doing? What did he think he was doing, invading the awareness of another person, and not just any person, but a Prime talent? What did he think he was…

He felt what could almost be called a caress of awareness touch him. Within the awareness he followed the flowing presence to discover links binding them; links he had not realized existed. His confusion further eased the temper of the presence and the Prime supplied him with information as they explored the boundaries of the links. Who had set the links became known to him, though not why, and her identity fuelled the anger in the Prime.

Gabriella. Her signature was unique.

The Gypsy Prime he had met the night past could only have formed these links during their three way contact. Why? He had the impression that Prime Khushrenada had not known the links existed any more than he had, and that ignorance opened up a wealth of questions he was not sure he wanted to have answered.

He received a succession of mental images that passed through his awareness with so much speed that he could not grasp more than generalities; impressions which rocked him to the core of his being. Too many, too fast, flooding through the binding links… He would need time to sort out the jumble and make some sort of sense of it all. Flashes of emotion, glimpsed visual images, a wordless jumble of sound that had to be voices… voices all jumbled together into a seething mass…

Abruptly cut off as the Prime sorted order in his awareness and set a barrier in place between them.

Through the onslaught all he could think to do was maintain the integrity of his shields, and hold those emotions and impressions that were not his own separate from the world beyond their merge. Until the Prime could effectively restore the integrity of his shields, Zechs had no choice other than to hold them both secure and hope no one else was affected.

Treize Khushrenada was angry, though anger seemed too small a word to describe this towering rage now being brought under control. He could sense the Prime's concern for him behind this swift squashing of rage and erecting of barriers. Any thought of Gabriella he detected caused a spike in the emotion of the Prime and he could only wonder what it was the Gypsy Prime he had liked so much had done to incite this outburst.

He wished he could be as efficient as the Prime. The man seemed to almost compartmentalize his emotions, efficiently and ruthlessly tearing his anger apart and stuffing wisps of it into niches that sealed as he moved on. For him to be considered a professional he would need to emulate this discipline, and sort his own thoughts and memories into something resembling the structured order of the other man's mind.

His teachers had attempted to describe it in terms he could understand, but 'seeing' it was far different to what he had understood they wished him to do.

_~/Thank you. I must apologise for my unbecoming, and exceedingly unprofessional, loss of control./~_

The mental warmth now focused on him was laden with apology and appreciation, and something else that Zechs dared not hope he really sensed. What was he to this wonderful talent, and to this man who was from a world so far above his own that they might have been from different corners of the universe?

Treize Khushrenada had wealth, position and prestige. Everything Zechs Marquise did not have this man took for granted. They were worlds apart in birth and background, but there was something about the Duke that drew Zechs unerringly toward him, defying the little voice buried deep within that kept reminding him of his proper place. Zechs knew if he had a physical form in this existence he would have been blushing, and hoped in that other reality his physical body did not emulate the blush.

Blushing at simply being the focus from that warmth of attention regarding him; it would not do. He was not some love struck teenager with a crush on some pop idol!

A pop idol was a far cry from one of the premier Psychics of the age and oh God, he did have a crush on him. He had it bad and he could purr with content to be within this warmth surrounding him and imagining it could be so much more. He had to respond somehow. He had to be coherent, polite; he needed to sound intelligent and mature… Professional.

_~/It was… my pleasure to be of assistance but… what happened? I felt… your anger was… directed… at Prime Gabriella?/~ _

//Oh God, that was awful!// He quivered behind his privacy shields, calling himself an assortment of names at the sheer inadequacy of his response.

A quick flash of something, a snatch of conversation he could not quite hear, and the impression of walls surrounding him… it came from the Prime and through their link he could feel the rush of anger, though it was muted and contained behind secure barriers. It was enough for him to notice other things, things he had initially missed in his wonder at being where he was, nestled in the awareness of this one particular individual who fascinated him.

~/_She has placed limits on your talent… but why? Why would she do this? Placing limits on another Psi is a serious breach of etiquette_./~

His belief, tentative as it was, that Gabriella might be able to do something about the uncertainties surrounding his future, trembled in the wake of sudden fear. He did not know these people. Mind to mind could not lie, that was the catch cry of telepaths, and backed with the empathic strength of a T/E talent that was indeed the truth. But one could shade one's intentions if one practised.

Dare he really trust Gabriella?

He wanted to trust Treize Khushrenada, he could not deny that, but the man was angry with her… and rightfully so! Blocking another's talent; interfering with another's talent it in any way, was not only illegal, it was also immoral and subject to heavy penalties.

Was she so unscrupulous as to threaten another Talented individual's sanity? Dare he really trust her?

_~.However, regrettably, sometimes it is necessary to place restraints upon a talent. I have been engaged in high level and taxing work recently, and I am due a period of rest to revitalize my shields and unwind. It is now apparent that Gabriella felt the need existed to ensure I did not fully extend my abilities; though she should have had the manners to mention it before she accomplished the deed and thereafter bolted./~_

He hesitated still; he caught a fond image of a pointy hat and warty nose and the label 'witch' popped into his mind. But it was a fond warmth he sensed from the Prime, that came with the image, and he was not sure what he should think. Despite her interference the man seemed to not really mind… no that was not quite right.

The Prime certainly objected to her high handed methods, but there was something in their interaction, in the depth of their relationship, which reassured Zechs. She seemed dear to him, honestly precious to that integral part of who and what Treize Khushrenada was. Beyond training and abilities the man genuinely liked her, and considered her to be family.

Dare he hope then, that there might be help for him?

Something was distracting the Prime. Zechs could feel it tugging at him, demanding his attention, and Zechs sensed a label to apply to the distraction. A name. Chang. Was that not the name of the man's partner? He supposed the agent would be worried if he had chanced to notice something was wrong. Dare he hope this Chang had not been present when the Prime had lost his temper, and therefore might not have alerted the University authorities?

There were procedures and protocols to be considered, and if a Prime talent was in trouble every resource of the University would be focused on restoring the Prime's equilibrium. He sensed the Prime's wish for discretion, but such might already be beyond them.

He felt the older man hold to him firmly, even as a part of his awareness slipped away, and Zechs received the impression of a room…a window… debris.

A sound that might have been a foot treading on waterlogged carpet. A splat as soggy plaster fell. A fleeting visual impression of utter destruction; of twisted pipes, broken furniture, gaping holes in walls…

Gone, as quickly as it had come.

He… knew this place…?

_~/Oh my…/~ _

A flare of emotion, anger once again, but not directed at him. A warmth; a soft caress was quick to assure him of that and he offered what assistance he could, allowing the man to use his talents as the Prime required, to effect control and restore damaged shields. No one knew their shields better than the person who wore them like a mental skin, and the Prime was swift and thorough in restoring his mental protection. Watching the Prime do it, feeling him work with Zechs' own talent, was more instructive than a dozen lessons in the laboratories of Tsuberov.

_~/Thank you, Zechs. I have control now and the use of your shields was more than timely and, if I might say so, quite expertly executed./~_

Smother the crushing disappointment; quickly and ruthlessly smother it. He could not reveal it, only the professional aspects must be adhered to, and personal pleasure came a distant second to the needs of the moment.

He had known it could not last, but it was too soon, however much time had passed in the outside world, it was too soon. He could languish here forever and savour the warmth and pleasure to be found in the older man's awareness. It felt so right, as though he belonged here and he had to forcibly remind himself of his proper place in the scheme of things. He had commitments, not the least of which was the class he needed to attend, and there were people waiting for him.

What was he to tell them? If hours had passed, even long awkward minutes of silence and staring at nothing… what was he to tell them?

_~/I… was pleased to be of help./~_

He sounded like a child! He was so far out of this man's social circle and he should never forget that. Best to withdraw quickly; ignore the need to linger and get it over with. Run and hide, that was what he wanted to do, but he could not. He was to be a Prime Talent, but even that would not make them equals. But perhaps sometime in the future they could, perchance, be at least friends? Not that he would dare to suggest anything of the sort.

The links binding them he must discount. Gabriella had established those links for her own reasons, and those reasons undoubtedly had to do with a heavy work load and the need to keep the Prime's mind sacrosanct from outside influences in the world. She must have considered Khushrenada's shields incapable of such a task at the present time, and therefore had established links to trigger and enable him to block the Prime's loss of control, should such a disaster ever occur.

Had she known such a reaction was imminent and she would not be present to effectively aid the Prime when he needed help? Had she… No. Why she had done it did not matter. Done was done and Tsuberov's students had been protected.

_~/You will make a fine Prime talent and I will look forward to your joining our group. Forgive me, but I had best calm my partner before he does something we will regret. He looks to be about to faint at the prospect of having to calm me. Thank you, Zechs Marquise, and I am afraid I must request you keep what you have learned secret. From everyone./~_

He could not offer so much as the impression of words; all he could do was offer a reassuring gesture that he knew his place and would keep his mouth closed. No one would learn from him any information, little as it was, that he had gleaned from their contact. This man was a professional investigator, and there had been some kind of crime, a serious crime, perpetrated. Zechs knew when to keep quiet.

He sensed a regretful farewell, and it brightened his gloom that the Prime did not seem so eager to break their contact. He could not help allowing a little of his own emotions to leak, so intimate was their contact, and he hoped the Prime would not think him forward, or a leech out for what he could get from their contact.

It felt cold, isolated. The breeze on his cheek was arctic after the warmth of that awareness surrounding him.

He was half in the car, his weight shifting forward to his extended foot and pushing on the hand against the car door. Surely if he had zoned out for any length of time he would have awoken in a bed in the Tsuberov infirmary, and have monitors and tubes sticking out of him to determine why he had collapsed. He managed a glance at his driver who was smiling as he nodded to someone who said something he could not quite make out.

Cronus… Time… That transient, unpredictable God that modern civilization bound itself to.

Next to no time had passed.

His perceptions were off and he drew a steadying breath, trying to gain precious seconds for his senses to begin functioning again… or rather for his conscious mind to become aware of the input provided by his physical senses. That was Maxwell he could hear, telling a joke, and as he straightened he noted Quatre watching Duo with something very like the urge to swat an annoying insect pest, glinting in his blue eyes.

Quatre had not sensed the surge of emotion? He had been that quick to contain it? Admittedly the link provided by Gabriella would enable him to sense it more quickly, but… They knew nothing of what had happened?

He must keep it that way and prove to the Prime that he could keep secrets. He must not compromise the man's investigation and he could not talk to anyone about what had happened; he could not allow either Duo or Quatre to suspect something had occurred.

Quatre might be inclined to allow it to pass, accepting his admonishment he could not speak of what had happened and what he had learned in responding to the situation, but Duo never would. Duo had an insatiable curiosity and would give him no rest from questions. No, he must somehow cover any hesitation his physical body might have made when he plunged into the mental plane, and pretend nothing untoward had occurred.

He had always failed theatre! His acting was atrocious, but in this he needed to act naturally enough to avoid suspicions and that effort would have to earn him an acting award of some kind.

Duo, being a kinetic talent, was unlikely to have tapped into anything wrong in the psychic ether. His talents were all keyed to be something other than an awareness to emotions; though he was quick to pick up on body language. Some people mistook that keen sense of visual awareness and suggested Duo had at least a trace of trainable empathic ability.

Quatre, of course, would be the problem. He was already a Prime level empath, though as yet untrained to a Prime's exacting standards. He had the raw talent and sufficient training to have picked up on his emotional responses to the Prime's stimuli. If he was fortunate Quatre might have been too preoccupied with Duo's antics to notice anything.

He could not take chances and he needed a distraction to ensure no awkward questions were asked of him. Duo could be a tenacious demon if he thought something was wrong; or if he suspected he was being excluded from something of interest.

And Duo would doubtless find the investigation underway of interest.

Politeness had been drilled into him since coming to the University, so Zechs took advantage of that need to turn and lean in to the car, to thank his driver once more. It gained him a few precious seconds to steady himself and strengthen his shields against any curiosity he might arouse in Quatre.

Straightening from the car and closing the door Zechs watched the car pull away and turned to his friends, making eye contact with Quatre.

"Duo is in fine form this afternoon. What is he trying to hide underneath all of that babble?"

Quatre's resigned sigh surprised him and he looked again at Duo, watching him with a little more attention than he had so far given his friend.

It appeared Duo was indeed trying to hide in plain sight.

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Quatre was glad Zechs did not notice him wince and wondered what he could do to distract their friend. Duo was trying too hard to appear to be… well… Duo. Maxwell had a reputation at Tsuberov, and Quatre could see he was overdoing the bright and chipper chatterbox with the insatiable curiosity. Zechs would have to know they had been up to something, if not by Duo's exaggerated behaviour, then by the simple expedient of him being a empath.

Neither he, nor Duo, could hope to cover their emotional responses sufficiently to fool a psi who had earned, if not yet received, a Prime level Empath certification. The best he could possibly hope for would be to distract Zechs from the actual source of their unease, and provide what was both a plausible and relatively harmless excuse for Duo's hyperactivity.

"You know Duo, he gets excited over the smallest things."

Well… How inadequate was that?

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Zechs was watching the braided wonder and adding two and two up and coming close to the magical four as an answer. In the past whenever Duo had been up to no good he became hyper; hyper active and hyper chipper. He fairly dripped innocence.

Just as he was now.

This could be his saving grace in this situation with Quatre, who had the raw power, if not the training, to pick up and interpret his emotional responses. If Quatre was given the time to really look at him he was in trouble, and if he noticed something off that might lead him to scan Zechs, then Quatre would simply have to sense something was wrong.

Well, not exactly wrong with him, but Quatre would certainly sense his confusion and excitement. He had been of service to a Prime, and he knew what he had done was no small feat, and it led to the adrenaline rush he did not have completely under control at this time.

To effectively hide from a high talent empath one had to have the emotional gradient of toast.

He could not reveal he had been in contact with the Prime for a number of reasons, not the least of which was Duo. The motor mouth of the University would not give him any peace wanting to know what he had 'felt' and what they had 'spoken' about. Duo could potentially spread that knowledge all over the University for his own warped reasons.

There was also the small matter that he had recognized the room he had glimpsed through the eyes of the Prime.

Though some people at Tsuberov considered him to be intellectually challenged, there was nothing wrong with his powers of deduction. He was uncertain if the Prime realized he recognized the room as his old suite, and that had drawn the admonition he not tell anyone what he had witnessed or if the Prime had been alerted by something else.

Brief though the glimpse had been it was sufficient; he had used that suite in the building for a number of years and recognized the angle of the view from the window. It was a unique view, one he could not mistake. It was their old suite and it was, in a word, trashed.

There was also the uncomfortable knowledge that someone had died at the University recently.

Otto had told them their first night back that there had been a death. One did not have to be an Einstein to put the condition of the suite together with the news of a death and at least suspect the two events might be related.

He would have liked to discuss what he knew and suspected with Duo and Quatre. Duo would be openly intrigued and want to learn more, and that he could not allow. It would interfere with the Prime's investigation and he could not hamper the investigators. Quatre would be curious, though he would not freely admit it, but he would end up aiding and abetting Duo.

Somehow Quatre always got sucked into Duo's nefarious deeds.

If his friends discovered he had glimpsed the suite and identified it as their own, then they would be insatiable in their need to know more. They would be particularly interested in the utter devastation he had glimpsed. It looked for all the world like a bomb had exploded, but the absence of scorch marks on the walls, or charring of the furniture and debris, informed him it had not been a conventional incendiary device.

//What it looked like was the work of a kinetic.//

No indication of a specific blast zone, no fire residue… no, it could not have been a bomb. At least not the mechanical sort, but he had attended enough lectures to entertain thoughts of what might have caused the damage. A strong kinetic could effect such destruction, and in very short order too.

It had to be the work of an exceptionally strong kinetic talent, and that would explain why the investigation team included a high powered telepathic empath such as the Prime, and a high level kinetic talent such as the Prime's partner.

He needed to exercise all care and maintain the Prime's requested secrecy. Perhaps, given that the Prime knew he had glimpsed the room, if he proved to be able to keep his mouth shut, he might be further enlightened as the investigation progressed?

Duo would never forgive him of course, but some things one had to treat with a certain measure of decorum, and an investigation into a murder and malicious damage on such a grand scale was surely one. It must have been a particularly messy murder, he decided, given the condition of the suite.

"Zechs?"

Pulled back from his contemplation by Quatre's voice and a feather light touch to his hand, which granted him a flash of Quatre's concern, confusion, exasperation and fear… fear?

What had Quatre to fear?

He stiffened his spine, firmed his resolve and pasted a smile of what he hoped reflected mild curiosity and just a hint of sheepish apology on his face. Looking around he found Quatre watching him with slightly narrowed eyes.

"Sorry. I guess I'm a little distracted. It was rather a late night for me, and while it was nice of them to let me sleep in a bit, I could probably have done with another hour or two."

Duo seemed to bounce across the footpath, a beaming smile growing to frightening proportions with every passing second. He was not in the least fooled. If there was one thing he could say about Duo Maxwell, it was that his emotions were honest. He simply could not hide from an empath; he was too transparent on the emotional level to submerge his emotions in deception. Duo was trying to cover up something Zechs knew he would not approve of, and that meant Quatre was hoping to avoid the subject altogether.

If he played along could he escape without any questions being asked about what he wished to keep secret?

"Quite a late night. We were told you met two Prime talents and they kept you out well past our normal curfew."

Last night was a far safer subject than the last few minutes ever would be. He could run with that for the moment and hope to steer his way safely through the next few minutes, at least until he could get safely to class.

"Who told you that?"

Quatre shrugged nonchalantly. It was no secret that Zechs had been undergoing testing last night, so had he; they had eaten the evening meal together.

"I met Prime Gabriella at the labs last night when she was being given the grand tour. The guard informed us at the hotel this morning that you had been up late with the Prime's in attendance, and that you would be coming in to Tsuberov late because of it. It was just as well you put the note in the living room asking us not to wake you this morning."

There had been a note requesting he not be woken? That was something of a surprise, but a pleasant one given the hour he had returned to the hotel. It had been the small hours of the morning before he had found the comfort of his bed, and he had been pleasantly surprised when he had received a wake up call so late in the morning.

"No, but Otto did accompany me back to the hotel, so he was probably the one who left it. Although when I left him in the sitting room all he said was that he would do a security sweep before he would be leaving the hotel."

"Otto's big on security sweeps." Duo grinned. "I think they have to be top of his favourite pass times list."

Zechs arched an eyebrow at the flare in Duo's emotions at the mention of the Security Chief. Such a significant reaction of what Zechs identified as worry could not be mistaken, which meant Duo had been doing something that involved Otto. That was the source of his hyperactivity; he was worried Otto would learn what he had been up to.

//Chalk up another notch in their personal duel of one upmanship. Ah, Duo what have you done this time?//

"He is, yes." Quatre looked nervous and offered a shaky little laugh.

//Dead giveaway you were in it with him, Quatre. You have got to learn to say no and mean it!//

Crystalline blue eyes pinned Duo for a long moment and Zechs saw the little gulping swallow that revealed Duo's guilt, just as much as his empathy detected his friend's emotional unease. Duo's body reacted both physically and emotionally to lying… well no, not exactly lying. It was more of a reactionary response that suggested to Zechs, knowing the rivalry between Duo and Otto as he did, that Duo wanted to avoid any mention of Otto.

"So what did you do?"

Blue-violet eyes blinked in innocent confusion. "Pardon?"

"I know you too well, Duo. What did you do that will have Otto breathing fire and brimstone down your neck when he learns about it?"

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Quatre could not help himself and snickered at the look on Duo's face. Offended innocence personified, done to perfection, thereby confirming he was as guilty as sin.

Duo might still harbour delusions of being able to keep Zechs in the dark concerning their recent activities, but Quatre was not such a fool. He knew there simply was no way they could cover their guilt and the excitement over what they had learned. Zechs might know they had been up to mischief, but they did not have to let him know exactly what they had done; or what they had learned.

The last thing he wanted was for Zechs to learn what they had discovered concerning his situation at Tsuberov. Zechs certainly did not need to know Otto was keeping a particularly close eye on him, and Quatre was curious enough to want to further pursue that observation. That was something he could not do if Zechs took an interest in their activities. He needed his friend to concentrate on his final evaluations for his accreditations and let them pursue their questions.

He liked Zechs.

Quatre was under no illusions about his personal past, or his future. He had never been so happy or content with his life as he had been since coming to Tsuberov and making the acquaintance of the odd friends that Duo and Zechs had been. They had been a part of Tsuberov, but they had gone their own way, not following the standards that Quatre was familiar with, and they were quite content to be the odd men out. They had greeted his interest in them with caution, but they had accepted him quickly enough on seeing he genuinely wished to know them, and he had not once regretted his association with them.

He wanted to protect his friends, and he wanted to be certain that Zechs, who had no real protection if his Guardian was intending to sell his services cheaply, or to nefarious connections, had both a secure and safe future. That safe future, he was certain, lay with the Prime Talents who now at least knew of the existence of a new Primary talent emerging.

It still amazed Quatre that news of Zechs and his abilities had been kept so quiet. The fact that he was unknown for so long suggested there had been high level power broking in select circles. The services of a Prime in the T/E field were not to be brought cheaply, and the safeguards surrounding such a talent were exacting. Someone might have gained an unfair advantage in having advanced warning of the emergent Talent.

Now that the Prime's were warned and actively interacting with Zechs, Quatre was confident his friend would receive a fairer deal than he might have had.

"Well… I like that! Don't you know the law? Innocent until proven guilty, Zechsy, not the other way round." Duo fairly bounced in place, scowling his disapproval at Zechs. "You know that is the way it is supposed to be, and don't you look down that long nose of yours at me like that. Contrary to popular belief, and I don't know how the rumours started I assure you, I am not the world's worst…"

Duo blinked, staring at the long haired blonde with widening blue eyes. He glanced at Quatre who wished he could walk away, but they were sunk if he did. Duo would surely blurt out what they had been doing and Quatre simply could not have that.

"Why are you laughing? Hey, come on, Zechsy! What ever it is it can't be that funny!"

Quatre could only shake his head sorrowfully. Duo had what had to be the world's worst method of keeping a secret that needed keeping he had ever had the misfortune to be a part of. At least Zechs was laughing, which was so much better than having him actively pursue what they had been up to. But the laughter and amusement, which was quite genuine, might not last for long.

Unfortunately for them Zechs was not so easily distracted, as Duo should know well enough. How best to cover for them?

"Duo, you can't lie to an empath, you know that," Quatre sighed.

"You are as guilty as sin about something, Duo, so come clean. What have you done?"

Well, Quatre had known Zechs would not be amused for long, but they needed to keep this as general as possible and keep off the subject of what exactly they had learned. Better yet, they needed to keep what they had been doing to rough generalities.

"I don't think I care to tell you!" Duo sniffed, elevating his nose an inch above his normal level, his eyes dancing with mischief. "I have been accused of dark and nefarious deeds! Innocent little me, who wouldn't harm a fly. So unfair."

"Me thinks he doth protest too much," Zechs snickered.

How true was that, but thankfully Zechs was taking it with a good deal of amusement, which was all to their benefit. If they could just turn the tables on him though and preserve their secret; at least until they knew what exactly it was that Otto was involved in.

"You know Duo, Zechs. He has to make things as difficult as possible for his own personal amusement," Quatre mock whispered.

Amused blue eyes turned to him and behind Zechs' back he could see Duo making expansive gestures, no doubt expecting him to capitalize on what little he had done. Why, he wondered and not for the first time, did he have to always give in to Duo's schemes? In the future he was supposed to run a corporation that spanned a planet and a few dozen space colony's… and he could not say no to that blue eyed idiot!

"So what did you both get up to?"

Avoiding it would not work, neither would making up some harmless story. You could not lie to an empath, so the solution was to tell the truth… just not all of the truth. And not necessarily in exact chronological order either. Anything to confuse the issue was good.

"Before you blow a gasket, he never got caught. No one knows what he was up to, so there is no drama."

"Hey! Me? We. We, Kitty Kat. You were in it too!"

He glared hard at Duo, wishing he was a receiving telepath, but Duo could only send and he was not inclined to try sending a message with Zechs around. Zechs had too much skill and talent as a telepath to try that in his immediate vicinity.

"Jigs up, Duo. We have to own up."

Zechs sighed, his broad shoulders hunching a little in reaction. "That bad."

"Hey, hey, hey! Quatre! No fair." Duo glared at the smaller blonde.

Quatre waved off Duo's protest with a flap of his hand. "Duo tested one of his robotic surveillance devices."

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Duo's glare raised a couple of notches on the incendiary scale. What was Quatre doing, letting the cat out of the bag? It had been Quatre who had been so adamant about not telling Zechs what they had discovered, and Duo did agree, it would not be a good thing for Zechs to learn what they now knew.

At least not yet.

He wondered why Quatre would now choose to confess all?

He liked the smaller blonde, a lot, but there was one thing that annoyed him about his friend. That incessant need of Quatre's to be honest really put a twist in his boxers. There was a time for the truth, just as there was a time for shading the truth.

Shadow truths, Duo preferred to call it. He firmly believed that sometimes it was infinitely preferable to present shades of the truth in place of the bold, brilliant, glaringly harsh truth.

He never lied, of course, but Duo had nearly perfected the art of evasion and providing just enough fact to get by without revealing all. It was a delicate balance and one that required the truth come out in little snippets instead of a single bold statement.

Quatre needed to learn the genteel art of saying a lot of nothing, and a little bit of something, if he was to succeed in the world of big corporate business.

Of course the problem was Quatre's empathy. His empathic ability already registered in the Prime range and he felt the results of lies and half truths told by people surrounding him each and every day. Duo was sure that was why Quatre stuck to the truth as though glue adhered his tongue to a lie detector. He could not bring himself to contribute to the evasions and outright deception some people practised.

That was all well and good, Duo knew, but sometimes one needed to be a little circumspect with what one said, for the greater good. Quatre would have no end of troubles in the world of big business if he did not get a grip on the need to shadow a subject.

//This would be a good time not to buckle under and spill the beans, Kitty Kat. Come on, I'm trying to distract him and you've virtually told him what I was up to!//

Quatre had been adamant about not revealing what they had learned from their observation of Otto's office, and yet here he was, not half an hour later, about to confess all!

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"Duo, shush. Zechs, you don't want to know exactly where he tested it or what it was; believe me, you don't."

Quatre glared at Duo, trying to get across to him in the glare that he knew what he was doing and to play along. They were working at cross purposes and they really needed to double team the older man.

"Suffice it to say the robotic device works; however, circumstances being what they were, he could not retrieve it as he…" Duo's glare was fierce, "Alright! We. We were interrupted before We could remove it."

The intent glare softened and Duo's eyes became more blue than violet once more. The faintest of nods led Quatre to hope he had finally gotten his message across to Duo that he was not about to reveal all.

"Everything is alright, we just need to wait until an opportunity presents itself for Duo to recall the 'bot."

Duo grinned sheepishly at the taller blonde as he was scrutinized by intense crystal blue eyes.

"I take it the test was performed in a location that, should the robot be discovered, will just about ensure expulsion from Tsuberov for all parties involved?"

"It's Duo," Quatre dead panned.

"Quite," a sigh.

"Hey!"

Quatre flashed a triumphant look at Duo and winked, then turned back to pin Zechs with an intent stare, a glint in his eye showing he was bound and determined to present questions his older friend would not like. He had to turn Zechs' attention away from what they had been up to, and the best defence was a good offence. He had remembered something that would be wonderful ammunition, and would surely have Zechs back peddling.

"Quatre?" Zechs queried, taken aback a little by that glint in gleaming blue eyes.

"So what happened in the parking lot?"

00000000000000000000000000

Duo blinked, eyes widening in wonder as he watched a slow blush creeping across pale golden skin. Had he doubted Quatre? Silly him! Silently he congratulated his friend on turning the focus off their recent activities in one lightning engagement of words.

Wait a minute… something had happened in the parking lot? What had he missed?

0000000000000000000000000000000

"Excuse me?" Zechs' smile looked nervous.

Quatre smirked, advancing half a step and was pleased when Zechs moved back an equal distance.

"I might not, as yet, be a fully qualified and registered empath of Prime level, Zechs Marquise, but I sure as hell felt 'something' happen in the car park. You were quick to blanket it, but I still felt the faintest surge of emotion, and that emotion was not yours. It 'tasted' of anger, but it was so quickly restrained and held that I could not get more than the 'flavour'."

Zechs looked at him, carefully blank faced, and Quatre was amazed at how tightly the other man's emotions were held under control. He could sense nothing from Zechs now and it reminded him of how far ahead of him in training Zechs was.

"You were on it incredibly quickly, I'll give you that. You 'received' a great deal more of what ever that was than I did. So what was it?"

000000000000000000000000

Duo looked between the two; Zechs and his deepening blush and Quatre, who had a positively evil grin on his face. He was actually a bit frightening, Duo decided.

"Fess up, Zechs." Duo cajoled. "If you come clean I'll save you from the big bad Kitty Kat."

//You've managed to distract him, that's for sure. I never felt or saw anything in the car park, so what the heck is going on? //

For a moment there Duo had noticed Zechs had looked a little distracted, it was while he had been joking with the driver, but Duo had definitely noticed Zechs hesitate coming out of the car. He had put that down to Zechs listening to the joke and bracing himself for getting back to work. From memory Zechs had a particularly gruelling schedule this afternoon, but the hesitation had only lasted a second or two and Zechs had greeted them with a smile.

So something had happened, had it, and Zechs did not want to share? Tsk. Naughty Zechs. This opened up so many interesting opportunities to the fertile imagination of one Duo Maxwell.

"Zechsy's blushing, Kitty Kat. Now why would Zechs be blushing, I wonder?"

0000000000000000000000000

Damn! What had happened? One minute he had them on the back foot and everything was fine and then… he could not tell them anything and he wanted an out.

"Shut up, Duo." Zechs glared, more than a little unhappy. "Have you noticed the time? I at least have a class I have to attend."

0000000000000000000000000

Quatre resisted the urge to snicker. Success was so wonderfully sweet.

As Zechs moved past them he exchanged a smirk with Duo.

Then he looked at his wrist watch and swore.

t.b.c

Karina Robertson 2009

Authors Notes

Zechs Marquise: Psi Student 5th year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Level 10 Receiving/Projecting Empath [approaching Prime Designation] + Level 9 Sending /Receiving Telepath, Projected L10 function. Finder function suspected, not officially registered. Country of origin, Luxemburg. [20 years of age]

Treize Kushrenada : Level 10 Sending/Receiving Telepath + Receiving and Projecting Empath at Level 10. Prime rated. Agency Operative contracted term of 5 years with 2 years remaining. [25yrs of age] Training facility: Psychic Institute Munich Division.

Quatre Rababer Winner: Psi student, 2nd year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Current Level 5 Telepath, projected Level 7, Current Level Receiving Empath 9.3, projected Level 10, Prime. Current Sending Empath Level 2, projected Level 4. Colony of Origin, L4 Cluster [18 years of age]

Duo Maxwell: Psi Student , 3rd year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Level 8 Psychokinetic ability, projected level 9. Sending Telepath Level 5. Colony of Origin L2 Cluster [ 18 years of age] Sweeper adoptee. Under pre contract agreement with Sweepers.


	30. Chapter 30

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 30/??

Author: Karina

Many thanks to ShenLong Deb for betaing this chapter of Agency.

_Italics_ = Thoughts

Chapter Thirty

So many years, too many years, since last she had walked these streets.

It was rare for nostalgia to be given licence to distract her from her set tasks, but this once, just for this one day, this one morning, she would permit it. This once she would not set aside her personal choices and instead devote her concentration to the difficulties inherent in assuring the young psychics of today a better future. Later she would devote her attention to that goal and to laying the groundwork for the psychics of tomorrow, to ensuring they had no cause to regret their role in the society of the future.

Just this once she would permit herself to be Gabriella.

She would walk through familiar streets for a few brief hours; streets many hundreds of years older than she and relax her guard. She would walk where her memories walked, as fresh today as they had been to her when she had had the joys of making them. It was many, many years since she had first set foot to these ancient, cobbled ways, and it had been a long time since last she had walked them.

That last time it had been a quick and angry stride that marked her passage, righteous rage firing her blood.

More than a generation in years, but some things, it seemed, never changed. Sanc always had seemed a place out of time.

When last she had walked these narrow streets she had been much younger, but no less a fool than she was now. In her past, many, many years before she had given vent to her temper and stormed out of the palace, she had made herself a promise; a promise to the successive generations of talented individuals who, like her, were marked to change the course of civilization. A vow to improve the living and working conditions those with psychic talent were expected to operate under; to make of their talents in life the norm, not the exception. Psychic talent was nothing new in the development of the human brain, but it was new that it was accepted scientifically.

Later, when she had stormed down these streets, she had turned her anger to productive use, focusing on that task rather than on wringing the necks of those who purported to know best, and who had, in their arrogance, made a tragic hash of lives.

Psychic ability could now be measured, tested, strengthened and trained for the betterment of the individual, and for the advancement of their society. In her salad days it had not been this ideal now lived by those who followed her generation. It had not been an easy task, but it had become possible by the stubborn refusal of her generation to be used, and abused, without consequence. It was a lesson people in high places had been required to learn, and it was a long time in the learning.

Even now, in supposedly enlightened times, there were those who thought to exploit the psychically aware.

For a long time her driving force had been focused on improving living and working conditions; on getting a code of conduct and responsibilities ratified, so that those who were psi active would not need to face the gauntlet she had endured.

Life was so much easier than once it had been and it was her lot to continue to find and secure improvement. It was a vow she had made soon after leaving Sanc for the first time, when all hell had broken loose about her and she had needed to give up the one thing in life she had treasured more than her own life.

The old world, now fading beneath more enlightened times, had not been kind to those who had been marked as not 'normal'.

Such warped and twisted meaning that single word could engender. Normal. Certainly it was not her favourite word in any language of the world. It was deceptive; prone to distortion to suit the needs of the speaker. It could rarely be attributed accurately, as no two human beings were the same; so how did one define normal? What was normal for one person might be rare and exceptional for another.

It depended on your personal view, after all. Individual perceptions were always dangerous when forced upon another individual… or the masses.

If there was one thing Gabriella had learned over the decades, it was that 'normal' was an individual thing, and should never be granted a group designation. The human race was made up of an infinite variety of individuals.

The result of her years of labour, assisted by other like minded individuals, was this modern format of government and a somewhat intelligent breed of politician. She could say with pleasure that the existing government body had come some little way in dealing with issues of borders, international relations and, blessedly, understanding the rights of the individual. Particularly the rights of the psychic individual.

Though at one time she had thought never to think it, let alone say it, she found herself pleased with the current crop of politicians. Of course it helped to have the political waters monitored by psychics. Monitoring sessions of parliament and meetings between representative countries, Terran based and colonial based political factions, and business and human rights representatives, had become the norm. It helped that amidst this new generation of political figures more than a few were gifted telepaths and empaths.

Less clandestine back room deals muddying the waters equated to a more honest and open agenda.

Of course there were drawbacks to the system. Nothing was perfect, after all, but for their success there had to be a price paid by all. One drawback was that some individuals with the talent now so much in demand, were not thrilled to be required to train their gifts and have their names entered onto the breeding register.

It was a down side, she did not deny that, however it was a small thing on the larger scale of successes, and there were too few really talented psychics whose talents were required to further advance society overall. It truly was a small price to pay for the advances made over the decades in human rights, let alone the sciences.

She was old, her days were numbered, and there was still so much to do. She had watched the world change for the better, and as yet she could not permit herself to rest. The younglings must be assured reasonable security as they grew and matured to face what could still be an unkind society.

It had been many, many years since she had wandered the narrow streets of the old city. That so many of the buildings had survived the too often volatile past, a grand parade of wars threatening Europe and the world at large, was no small wonder she could permit herself to marvel at. These old streets had not changed much since the Middle Ages, and it gave the old city such character. It was rare to find such examples after the wars that had levelled entire cities over the last three hundred years.

One might have been walking through another, far older world, were it not for the cleanliness of the streets. Though the setting might have been medieval, and had been used in the past for period movie productions, the streets were kept spotless. It was a far cry from the scents that once were to be found in such cities. There was no stale urine, open sewers, stagnant muddy streets, animals roaming loose, urinating and dropping faeces everywhere, and the general human filth that marked the period. Under the Peacecraft monarchy, one of the few monarchies remaining in the world, an ancient and archaic system of government some said, New Port City was the perfect tourist magnet.

Under the Peacecrafts the country, which should have been absorbed centuries ago into one of the larger, more dynamic countries, was a peaceful haven in the hubbub of the world. It was a backwater with every modern convenience imaginable, and with a population that was disturbingly content with their lot.

Of course, what more would one expect from a family as steeped in Psi ability as the Peacecrafts?

There were few monarchies left in the world and all of them were constitutional monarchies, and of those few it was perhaps the Peacecrafts who retained the most actual state power. It was no accident either, but by design that the Kings of the line retained as much power as they did. It did not surprise her in the least as their genetics were steeped in psi active genes, specifically the telepathic gene was in evidence. There was also a healthy spread of empathic ability to be found in past generations.

The Crown Princess of Sanc currently resided at Tsuberov, receiving instruction in how to control her burgeoning talent, and Gabriella determined to investigate the girl's potential. Relena was, she recalled, listed as a Suggestor, a telepath with the ability to influence the thoughts and actions of another person. Given the dangerous potential such a talent entailed, Suggestors were carefully trained and observed for the peace of mind of those who associated with them.

The current King, Stephan the IXth by title, was also gifted with a significant Suggestors talent. He was by no means a young man, though he was far from old, being in his fifty ninth year. He had wed late, an arranged marriage at the behest of the Parliament and the union had produced only the one child, Princess Relena, who was doted on by everyone who associated with her.

Gabriella had been sadly remiss in making the time to get to know this girl who was fast becoming a young woman. Something she could not long allow to continue.

A telepath was never one to leap into a marriage lightly and with the modern laws governing the talented and the next generation to follow, there would be a broader genetic pool of guaranteed psychics to be considered. Not that the gene pool in Sanc was a problem when it came to that, she thought, highly amused, though it would not do to inbreed.

A café spilled out onto the cobblestones, neat,white painted iron worked tables and chairs and Gabriella sighed softly. Even after so many years it still existed. She simply could not resist the temptation to answer its siren call to her and settled her bulk into what might have been the same chair, set in exactly the same place, as when last she walked these streets.

The waiter was young and handsome and had a pleasant smile for her. Her talent sensed only amusement from him, a response to a joke told in the last few minutes teamed with a willingness to do his job and the thought that the sweet old lady looked tired… and yes, there it was, that brief flash of a pretty girl laughing and the momentary yearning to be with her.

Ah, what it was to be young.

Young people had no idea how precious a gift it was to be so young. Only when one had lived as long as she did one appreciate one's youth, lost in the mist of years. Ah, but it was nice to remember the good times, to sit here in the warmth of the sun and enjoy a decently brewed coffee. It was more than simply pleasant, it was fulfilling to sit here and reflect on the days when heads had turned with her beauty and not with the fear of her tongue's critique.

Such long ago days.

It seemed forever since she had been a slip of a girl, hiding a burgeoning talent which would bring her both grief and joy in later years. A gypsy indeed in those days, free to come and go at will, ignoring the borders laid down by fools who professed to own the land and the people. Such long ago days, filled with so many things.

Her hair had been pitch black back then, her eyes bright with laughter and her head had turned to notice the young bucks with no small amount of pleasure and speculation.

Ah, but some things never changed. She still had an eye for a handsome face and a fine, fit body.

He had been that. Fine indeed. Young and devil may care, handsome as you could please, a man in all things… and he had noticed her.

There were romance novels of the noble Lord and the Gypsy wench and of their doomed love; and there were those where the hero and heroine defeated the odds to love forever. Such drivel, all of it. In reality the Lord and the Gypsy made eyes at each other and humped like bunnies at every opportunity, and each knew, without a shred of doubt, that this was merely a passing moment in their lives.

Ah, but she could see his lovely blue eyes and his pale, pale hair. He had not been the King's heir, but he was the King's relation and their assignations had been secret and frenzied with young love, but no innocence at all. Oh yes, no innocence.

Memory of their passion still warmed her lonely nights.

She had wanted him and he had wanted her and somehow, despite the vagaries of her then precarious talent, she had enjoyed every second of her time with him.

They were, indisputably, a charming breed these Peacecraft men. Full of charm, and graced with an inherent knowledge of how to use that charm to best effect. If you were female, and willing, your knickers did not long linger as a barrier to a little indulgence; and a woman's age had little to do with it if one of those saucy, sexy boys chanced to look your way.

They were like a drug, seductive without really trying, alluring, pleasing on the eye and pleasing to the mind of a telepath. They were a special breed, to be adored, loved and lusted over, but never to be chained by your lust.

If perchance mutual lust should turn to love, once they were committed, they were faithful to you. Given their bloodline they were careful not to permit fancy to turn to love. Rakes the lot of them when young and single, but let there be a commitment, as there forever must be when one is of the ruling lineage, and there would, thereafter, be no dalliance until the next generation grew into their trousers.

What a day of lamentation amidst the females of the country, when those lovely blonde boys were tied to the sacrificial alter of political purpose.

It had suited her at the time, that claim which chained his blood to the purpose of the King. She was Romany, a gypsy, free as the wind, never to be held -ah, the innocence of the times! It had come, as they had known it would, and he would forever hold a special place within her. He had been special, in that deep place only telepaths were conscious of, and he would never be forgotten; despite the years she still held ahead of her and the growing infirmities of her body. A woman never forgot that special someone and he had been hers.

But she had been a gypsy, young and free, and she had moved on before he might think to defy convention, before she could tempt herself to ask him to defy that convention. Their dalliance had be noted by certain agents of the King and she had known when to leave and done so, with only a parting night of passion and soft kiss to farewell him. A night of the full moon in a meadow with starlight and moonlight surrounding them, silvering his pale hair…

And she had discovered he had left her with something of himself to remember him by.

And soon after had come the discovery the secret police of her mother country were on her tail, seeking to learn more of the odd little things which were known to happen in her vicinity.

Old days, long gone.

Gabriella leaned her head back and looked toward the palace. It could not be seen from here, the buildings were too close together to allow a view of the castle, but she knew exactly where it was. Those ancient walls stood as a symbol of the old ways, of older and gentler times. They had been often harsh and dirty days, but simpler, less complicated. It was a symbol, a sign to those who lived beneath its shadow, a security blanket, as it were. The people of Sanc had been fortunate to have their royals honestly care for the welfare of their people; more fortunate still to be spared much of the strife and disease of the past wars.

It was a result of the influence of the psi gifts rife within the family, of course. She had never been a fool, and she knew each successive generation of Peacecraft children were marked by the talent, and they had made good use of those talents to preserve this tiny corner of civilization from the excesses of the bordering nations. A hundred times throughout history this tiny country should have vanished into legend, gobbled up by the greed of the warring world.

Yet it survived.

No less than in the past, on the world stage of today, the Peacecrafts were a force to be reckoned with.

Ah, there was one now, a stud with the classic blonder than blonde hair and blue eyes that were unmistakable to one who had stared into them as they burned with passion. A charming young buck, perhaps eighteen or nineteen, sometimes it was hard to tell with the breed. Peacecraft men aged very well indeed, and they were always older than they looked, so perhaps twenty one or twenty two?

He would be a younger son of the satellite family, striding along without a care in the world and a giggling gaggle of girls following in his wake. At his age he could expect perhaps four or five more years of freedom before the King found an advantageous marriage for him and, like all Peacecraft males, he would dutifully obey the royal directive.

In his face she could plainly see that other Peacecraft Lord, the one who had charmed her and bedded her, and who had sired her daughter. Such a long time ago, and so much had happened in the intervening years.

She must remember to visit the grave of her daughter whilst she was here. Opportunity to return and pay her respects to her own flesh and blood had been hard to come by in the last score of years. Ah, but to be honest it was her anger to blame, not just work commitments. It shamed her, but she was here now and she must not lose the opportunity to take that small drive out of the city to the cemetery.

It had been the hardest thing she had ever done, even amidst a life made up of hard decisions and harder actions. It had been near to impossible, but she had risen to the occasion and given her daughter up to her father. It had been necessary. By the time her daughter was born she had become aware of those who hunted her and she had determined whoever pursued her, and for what ever reason, they would not claim her child.

He had taken her willingly, her Peacecraft lover, when she had contacted him. He had even kept his mouth closed as to the identity of the child's mother at her request and, bless him, he had reared her with the children of his wife.

He had loved her and in turn he had loved their daughter.

Such fools they had been, so long ago.

She had loved him too. She did, to this day.

_Enough of this foolishness. Living in the past will not guide anyone's steps in the future. I have places to go, people to shock._

Yet she could not bring herself to move, not while watching the shade of him stride down the street with fan club in tow. It was like watching him that first time she had laid eyes on him.

_I know I was once that young, that care free; free to do as I pleased; when I pleased. Once, long ago._

If she was that young now there were a few young bucks who would need to watch out. She could teach them a thing or two about how to please a woman. She would forever lament the two brightest stars who were homosexual, but she would at least enjoy the fun of getting them to acknowledge each other in more than a professional capacity.

If she were as much as fifty years younger she might even have tested just how male oriented they were.

_Silly old fart of a woman._

This trip down nostalgia lane was serving no purpose other than to remind her of just how old she was. It was time she stopped day dreaming and moved on. There were indeed people she needed to speak with, and she did wish to visit her daughter's resting place.

For an hour or so in the day, it had been good to walk in a younger Gabriella's shoes.

There were eyes on her, as she had expected there would be. There were certain persons within the King's Intelligence Service who would know her by sight; even as old as she now was… or perhaps it was only because she was who and what she was. A Prime talent, and not just any Prime, but the First T/E Prime of the nine. Yes, her face would be marked by every intelligence agency in the ESUN.

She would have been marked by someone at the terminal when she alighted from the plane. There would have been a swift flurry of calls made and questions asked and answered, and then she would have been observed with the utmost discretion. They would know she would know they were aware of her.

It was actually rather kind of them to let an old woman walk down memory lane undisturbed.

The kindness would most likely be Pagan's doing. That young man had always pleased her on her once frequent visits to Sanc. He might not be so thrilled to see her after all this time, of course. It had been more than twenty years since her last visit to Sanc, and on her last visit she had had a few rather pointed observations to make.

How dare he permit such an atrocity? How dare he think she, Gabriella, who then was striding through the ranks of notoriety and fame, how dare he think she would not take notice of what was happening within Sanc's borders? How dare he think that she might have forgotten the children and the grandchildren of her daughter?

She had had much to say to him, none of it good, but all of it honest.

These were her children. The children of her child. Yes, she had given her daughter up, in the interests of keeping the child safe and giving her a secure future, but forgotten? Never.

Never.

She had left Sanc before her anger had broken from her tight leash and she lay waste to the city. She had not returned until now, and many would not be pleased to note her appearance in their midst.

It was time the nobility of Sanc were reminded gypsy blood ran thick and hot, and that it laced their veins. To her knowledge, and when it came to counting her own descendants she did not err, she now had thirty nine great, great grandchildren amidst the noble families of Sanc and scattered throughout the European sector, up to and including the child born in the last month.

It rather amused her that so many of the world's most ancient and noble families carried her genes, but then nobles found it difficult to ignore the fire of the gypsy soul. It was like drawing a moth to a flame.

Utterly irresistible.

And it was good for their bloodlines, keeping them from becoming inbred ninnies, something the Sanc Kings' had learned generations in the past. Unlike many noble and royal families of the old world, the Sancian bloodlines had crossed periodically with the so called 'lesser' classes. To further strengthen the bloodlines it was expected that the young studs of the Peacecraft line exercise their hot blood. Children born of these liaisons were expected to be known and educated by their father's, and were brought within the bounds of the court.

There was no shame within Sanc to being the child of a Peacecraft without the sanctity of a wedding band in one's pedigree. That was a bit of tradition bound in purpose, as she had discovered in her youth. It kept a flow of new genes moving through the aristocracy and kept them strong in both body and mind.

She had met the current King within days of his birth, and as he had grown she had found him to be a serious young man, older in nature than his years allowed. He was not, as were his peers, to spread himself around amidst the eligible female community. It was fine for the lesser Peacecraft sons' and nobility of the court to extend the gene pool available to future generations, but it was not considered expedient or proper for the heir apparent to do so.

To sire offspring who might potentially bring a throne into contention was not smiled upon. It was not unknown in the distant past for the throne to be in contention from rival half brothers vying against each other, and from the machinations of family who sought to claim the King as their own blood. It was a dangerous seat, a throne, requiring constant attention to detail, like keeping one's trousers zipped.

No, Stephan Peacecraft had been too serious, too aware of his position. His family and his trainers had taken pains to stress the delicacy of the political situation at the time and the need to maintain a status quo, uneasy as it had stood at the time. He needed, in Gabriella's vaunted opinion, to relax more. Then and now.

As she recalled, she had told him so on more than one occasion, he and his father, too.

Twenty years since last she had walked in Sanc. It was far too long. Once she had been welcomed by the Kings' as a friend, but time and responsibility weighed heavily on her. And her anger, she must not overlook that as being behind her long absence. Regrettably she had permitted the ties binding her to this land to loosen. It was the land of her children and it was here, beside her daughter, if they would be kind enough to permit it, that she would like to be laid to rest.

But that was in the future, not now.

Now she needed to know if she might still be welcome.

The world was not as unstable as once it was and it was time to remind Stephan and his court that she was still around. He was no spring chicken himself, and his daughter was being groomed to take her father's place. There was more than one reason Relena was being educated at Tsuberov and she would need to make some subtle inquiries, determine the reasons behind the unheard of education of a Sancian ruler beyond the borders of the country.

Perhaps it had to do with the ingrained distrust of the older generation for modern techniques in the realm of genetic diversity? That was a rumour she needed to look into whilst she was here, should the occasion permit. There were many here not in favour of the modern dependence on genetic manipulation, and little trust for the artificial invitro techniques used around the world to ensure a healthy, sound population for the future.

Sanc had its own means of ensuring a strong population.

Courtesy of the young male bloods, Sanc had a flourishing society of telepaths and empaths, with more than a sprinkling of other psychic talents represented in the population. If Stephan had not produced a male heir naturally, he might have turned to a modern laboratory to genetically influence the sex of a second child and have the male heir Sanc's parliament had been harping on since he turned nineteen.

He might have, but he had not.

Relena was reported to be a strong, opinionated and compassionate young woman. From reports the girl would do quite well as Queen, but Relena, like everyone else, was well aware the traditionalists wished for a male to rule. There were multiple reports which concerned Gabriella, suggesting as they did that there would be another prolonged period of unrest in the country upon the new Queen's ascension to the throne.

One report suggested certain factions were seeking around after a young man whose bloodlines were laced with Peacecraft genetics, even if the surname was different. In Sanc there were quite a few that would meet the criteria. An extension on the rumour suggested legislation would be passed to permit the Queen to retain the Peacecraft name and discard the moniker of her husband's own house.

There was another rumour parliament was considering actively pursuing genetic manipulation to ensure the future Queen produced a male Peacecraft, using Peacecraft genetic material to ensure the purity of the bloodline. There were whispers of revolution, of assassination beginning to come to her ears, and she was not amused by any of it.

Gabriella could see trouble growing in paradise over the fact the next ruler had boobs and not balls. It was idiocy, but the old ways were not easily discarded, a fact she knew all too well. Ah yes, she had missed the old system in Sanc, where nothing was ever quite as it looked and the boys were so very kind on the eye.

They were a passionate people, and they loved a good debate. Perhaps some bright star amongst them might even think the girl might prefer to produce an heir without the need to tie herself down with a marriage no one actually wanted, for a host of reasons, given the current political hot bed New Port City was becoming.

Though the issues of progeny were complex, Sanc had signed the legislation which required all Psi's of measurable talent were required to produce a minimum of three children, and the future Queen of Sanc was no exception to that requirement. No doubt someone would remind parliament of that little gem. Eventually.

In the past Gabriella had been known to laugh herself silly over political infighting within Sanc's borders. They had a style all their own here, full of an archaic and honest charm rarely found in this day and age.

She had missed it, she mused, watching the young man approach her, admiring him, marking him for future attention.

"Madam Prime," He bowed formally from the waist to her before straightening to stand tall, though he did not loom over her. "Pagan sends his compliments."

He was a good looking specimen, dark haired, but with those lovely Peacecraft blue eyes marking a blood link to the ruling family. He was impeccably dressed in a designer suit, his long hair tied neatly back from his face with a black band and no radio in evidence, not even an earpiece.

Telepath then. Only a Telepath would not have need of so basic a security device.

"Sent a car for me, has he?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

He was good; there was the proper inflection on that ma'am. Well trained in the niceties of dealing with irascible old women. He made of the polite form of address a title, giving her full respect, as one should to one whose bloodline ran through the royal family.

Ah, such a long way this old gypsy had come from the young woman who had considered herself as free as the wind. They harnessed even the wind in this day and age, but the wind, like the old gypsy, still had a wild streak and broke free of their constraints from time to time.

It could be so inordinately pleasing to be a disturbance in their nicely structured world and she surmised she might exceed her past efforts by the conclusion of the day. From her unannounced arrival to the moment she would depart their borders, they would be on their toes, living in fear of what she might do or say.

The ripples she could cause would surely emanate throughout the castle, right up to the top.

If she so desired.

It warmed her old bones to know she could make them hop to her tune with barely an effort on her part.

Order in the world at large had been managed after so many millennium of war and revolution. The stability was being maintained without a huge cost in lives, due largely to the influence of the Psi faction. With psychics now credited as being something other than charlatans. For those who knew how to use them and make use of their potential, psychics were looked on as being more than mere tools. Psychics were taking their rightful place in the order of things, and with the final push for psychic rights about to take place, Gabriella felt this little side trip was not out of order.

Not given what she must pursue here.

She did not expect to gain answers to the questions she would ask easily or quickly, but it would be nice to be pleasantly surprised. She would not hold her breath waiting for that pleasant surprise; she was not so foolish as to think she would actually be graced with total honesty.

She had considered the implications of this visit to Sanc before making the decision to pursue enquiries here. Thought had gone into how to distract those she did not wish to question her absence, and she had gone out of her way to ensure questions would not be asked.

With no small effort on her part to disguise what she had done until it was too late, her Naughty Boy had been suitably distracted. She was quite pleased with herself for her work in limiting both the risk of his overloading his talent, and the defusing of his temper at her high handed methods. For his own safety her Treize of the naughty eyes was now contained to safe limits; he would never put that blonde of his at risk.

There was no danger of anything untoward occurring between them. She was well aware he was aware of the active link she had left between them to monitor the link she had forged between him and that delightful youngster whom she would soon have sheltering safely beneath her wing. While the link was required to control her Khushrenada's penchant for overworking himself, she would not have a premature bond form between the two. She must monitor and control any unwanted surges across their bond, halting the formation of unhealthy ties.

She would not have them bound to something ill formed because of the necessity she act in haste for the good of all. Time would form the bond naturally, and she would not permit the necessities of now to affect the pleasures of what was to come. She owed it to them for interfering.

Contrary to what was undoubtedly popular belief, it was not her preference to use such heavy handed methods, but circumstances being what they were, she had felt there was little choice. She would not chance the sanity of her favourite protégé who, if all went well, had rather a large part to play in the shaping and development of the world over the next fifty or so years.

She was not above using the newly discovered, and very much in need of a champion, Zechs Marquise to control her Naughty Boy's wayward will.

In the interests of both their well being.

He had so much potential, this Khushrenada Duke. So much potential. He preferred working as a psi investigator to becoming the business mogul dabbling in politics that his family had desired him to be. As Duke within his own lands he upheld all of the traditions of his position, working additional hours beyond what was required by his contract with the Agency to do so. He took his responsibilities very seriously, and her shining star of the future was simply doing too much and getting too little rest.

This was something Gabriella must see fixed and shaped in preparation for the future, before she departed to return to the colonies.

Treize Khushrenada was, quite frankly, the sanest of the Nine and she would ensure he remained that way.

But this was now, not in the near future, and there was this bright eyed boy with the midnight hair patiently waiting on the daydreaming of an old woman in a street side café to be dealt with.

"Getting on then, we will be."

He did not physically touch her, did not offer her his arm, instead there was the offering of the mental equivalent of such polite support, and she was well pleased with both his skill and manners. Telepaths did not need the mundane touches of polite society; they had their own methods and means of polite reference and protocol. Physical touch was reserved for the more intimate physical practices between partners and family.

There was something about him that brought her old friend to mind. Something of the daughter she had lost too, which meant she should know this one. He was one of hers, and she felt the warm flicker at her recognition of his bloodlines as he acknowledged those bonds. Pagan had sent one of her own to inform her, in subtle terms, that he could forgive the past.

She might forgive, as he had, and like him she would not forget. They had long memories and their purposes did not always coincide. Not in the short term. They each worked individually to follow grand schemes, and they could expect to have the odd altercation over the years, but this altercation's repercussions had lasted more than a score of years.

When it came to matters of blood, Gabriella did not forget.

He walked at her side, forgoing the more formal half step behind at a flick of her mind to his. She wanted to enjoy the presence of this one who might, in the fullness of time, play a larger part in the scheme of things than to escort what might be considered a living fossil about the city. She liked the flavour of his mind and knew Pagan approved of him and, should she request it, might bend enough to give him to her.

The vehicle was plain, black and sinfully comfortable to old bones and aching muscles. She did not travel so well as once she had; another sign of her advancing years and the unavoidable fact her days were numbered. It was to be expected with her years and therefore could be ignored in favour of more important things.

Settling into her seat she permitted herself to rest her head back and sighed softly. He took the front seat, beside the driver, reverting from relation to bodyguard, and that was as it should be. It reminded her this was not a social call and allowed her to push aside the ghosts of the past. In moments they were on their way to the palace and to a confrontation of more importance than any of them would understand.

She needed to ensure the one with the Sexy Eyes maintained his mental stability, just as she had ensured her Khushrenda was bound to sanity. There had been sadness in those blue eyes, confusion, uncertainty, and no small amount of fear. That must not be permitted to continue.

Despite those wonderfully fashioned diamond shields of his, he was strained by the uncertainties binding his life. How had Tsuberov devised a training program capable of creating such diamond clear and solid shields? It was no surprise they were jealous of their methods if this was the quality of psychic their training produced. She must look into their training practises and determine if these remarkable shields were peculiar to Sexy Eyes or if they could be, and were, taught to others.

If they could train others to such security then she would have other T/E talents trained in their methods. If it could keep a strong telepathic empath sane, then it should become a requirement of any future training programs. No doubt Tsuberov's Board of Governors would be delighted with her estimation of their programs.

It would shake up the Psi Institute too.

So much to do, so limited a time to do it all in. Her first priority must be in the securing of the guardianship of this young, soon to be, Prime talent. Whilst she was arranging the change over of legal guardianship she would also need to get to the bottom of the events taking place at Tsuberov.

She needed to learn why word of a potential Prime T/E had been kept so quiet, not that she did not already have her suspicions. She needed to learn if supposition was fact, and if it was fact she needed to clear up any doubt of the circumstances involved and then, when he was securely her ward, she could grind a few ears with just how stupid it all was.

With her hand hovering protectively over him, he would remain at Tsuberov to complete his training, with a few revisions to his subject criteria. What more need did he have with deportment instruction? He had had a great deal of that already, and he knew how to carry himself in polite society. No, he would be given more practical instruction than the idiot who was currently his guardian had determined he required.

They left the city limits and the view from the limousine was spectacular as they wound up the access road to the palace. The sea was a remarkable shade of blue under the sun, not a cloud in the sky to dull the blue to grey. It could be green, dark and deadly in the approach of a storm, but in this blue beauty it was serene and lovely.

Yes, he could remain at Tsuberov. She was no idiot and could see how well he was trained, even with so little contact with him. Those shields spoke for themselves. It was not his psi abilities that would need a little extra attention, Tsuberov catered well enough for those needs. She would need to work on his self confidence. There Tsuberov had dismally failed him, though she had to wonder just how much of that was the fault of his incompetent Guardian but, overall, she could not say she was displeased with Tsuberov.

She had her reasons for wishing to keep the bright young thing right where he was. In the fullness of time she would ensure her bright young Prime's found time and opportunity to realize exactly what they had in each other.

She must not rush them. For one of her advanced years it would be a wonderful treat to watch young love develop, but she would resist the temptation to rush them. She would ensure they had the opportunity to work together under various guises, with as much frequency as she could manage to further their developing bond, but she must not, and would not, push for them to seek something more from each other.

Her Naughty Boy would complain she was manipulating him which, of course, she would be, but it would be manipulation designed to preserve the abilities and sanity of both young males. Not that she would interfere beyond giving them the opportunity to associate with each other. That much she would do, the rest was up to them.

She could only hope she would live to see them pair bond.

Ah, it shone as brilliant as ever. Glistening white in the sunlight. Turrets, spires and minarets reaching high into the sky, colourful pennants flying proudly in the wind. Such memories it invoked. It might have stepped out of a story book; a fairy tale for the young and the romantic.

It was not so hard to overlook the satellite dishes and antenna sprouting from the towers, if one chose not to see them. Functionality, it was the curse of modern society. She chose not to see the arrays in favour of admiring the beauty of what was ancient. One final distraction, and acknowledgement of the passage of time and the needs of the past, as opposed to the needs of the present.

It was time to remember the trials and pitfalls of walking through those doors.

She must watch them all, as they would watch her. She must learn who was involved in what scheme, and mince her way through the mine field that was Sancian politics. She was not here to upset the balance Stephan was maintaining amidst his own court and the ministers of his parliament, that was not her intent. She could only hope her visit would be short and relatively painless.

Her handsome young escort accompanied her into the cool interior of the Great Hall before bowing to her formally and, Gabriella was amused to note, he made no deeper obeisance to the woman approaching across the black and white marble flagstones of the hall. With a touch of her mind to his, an acknowledgement of her thanks for his escort, he faded dutifully into the background.

"Prime Gabriella. What an unexpected pleasure."

Katherine Marguerite Katarina Elizaria Rosemund Wayridge Peacecraft, Queen of Sanc.

Gabriella, as was her want, and her right gained from surviving many decades of trials and tribulations in the name of progress, decided to be polite… but just a little difficult. It was unfortunate that the Wayridge heiress was not as well known to her as her husband. Until such time as Gabriella could observe and sense the woman to her satisfaction, and determine the strength and the nature of her character, she would be cautious around the woman.

She did, however, have a certain reputation to uphold. To not do so would be to cause more questions than being her usual irascible self would engender.

"Pleasing it is for Gabriella to be returning to an old haunt. Much time in the past has Gabriella spent in Sanc."

The tall, slender woman with the honey gold hair and smiling blue eyes inclined her head, not seemingly surprised nor disturbed by the lack of deference to her social standing demonstrated by the old gypsy. She would have been warned what to expect, and no doubt Pagan would have warned her that making a scene was something Gabriella excelled at.

It paid, on many occasions, to allow one's reputation to do the work for one.

"Stephan has told me you visited quite often when he was young. He would usually smile quite fondly when he spoke of you. Please, come and share some morning tea with me. I am afraid Stephan is not here at the present time, and it will be a few hours before he returns."

Excellent, she would gain the chance to learn something of the woman. The Wayridge family was deeply into the politics of the European sector and it had been considered something of a sensation for the Wayridge Duke to marry his daughter into the Peacecraft lineage, given the King was in his forties and the new Queen was not at the time twenty. The kingdom of Sanc might have been small, but it held a great deal of prestige amongst the blue bloods.

"Good this is being. Allowing Gabriella time it will to be getting to know Princeling's wife."

Katherine Peacecraft blinked. "Princeling?"

Dark eyes sparked with amusement. "Dangled gangly legged little boy with wild mop of palest hair on knee did Gabriella, many years ago. Wiped his behind I did and dried his eyes when incapable he was of running on his own two feet. This is equalling Princeling forever."

The woman's blue eyes sparked with unholy amusement and Gabriella thought she might just enjoy this interlude. She could amuse the woman for quite some time with tales of the Peacecraft children over the decades, her husband had been just one of many Gabriella had known.

The Queen of Sanc appeared to have a sense of humour.

Always a bonus.

"Wanting to be speaking to Pagan Gabriella will be, when nicenesses are done and tired of gabby old woman you are."

A low gurgle of amusement escaped the Queen. "I think it could be quite some time then, for I would like to hear of the exploits of a young Stephan Peacecraft."

Gabriella cackled softly. "Warn you, did anyone, how Gabriella excels at character assassination?"

t.b.c.

Karina Robertson 2009

Authors Notes

Gabriella : Romany descent. Level 10 Sending / Receiving Telepath + Level 10 Receiving and Projecting Empath. Prime Rated. Training facility rumored to be Government Laboratories of the Prussian Republic deposed in the year AC 45. Age: Unknown [rumored to be approximately seventy four]. Oldest of the Prime Telepathic Empaths.

Adrian Carruthers: Level 8 Sending / Receiving Telepath Level 5 Receiving / Projecting Empath. Psychic Institute Luxembourg Division. [Age: 28 years, Blood link to Gabriella and Peacecraft lineage]


	31. Chapter 31

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 31/??

Author: Karina

Many thanks to ShenLong Deb for betaing this chapter of Agency.

//…// Thoughts

The Agency: Meeting of Souls

Chapter Thirty One

The down side of sleeping in on a work day was that the day was shortened in work hours, but not in the amount of work one was expected to accomplish. At Tsuberov each day's activity was a part of a pre planned, individualized routine covering each semester. To fall behind was to increase one's work load and sleeping in had set him hours behind in his scheduled day and one was expected to make up for lost time. Such expectation to complete ones assigned work, only emulated the demands of life, the responsibilities and deadlines to be found beyond Tsuberov's secure walls.

The upside of having to make up for his lazy morning was that he was far too busy to spend time with Quatre and Duo, and therefore he had managed to avoid most of the awkward questions from his friends. And there had been awkward questions.

It made for a long day where he had not paid perhaps as much attention to his instructors as he should have. He knew Duo too well to think his friend would resist the temptation to keep the questions coming on his return to the hotel, and he had been distracted trying to think up plausible excuses to avoid his dorm mates. Nor had he been wrong about the inundation of questions and sly innuendoes when Duo had successfully cornered him.

One thing he was bound and determined to do was to not reveal what had happened on his arrival at the University.

He desperately wanted to demonstrate to the Prime that he was worthy of notice and trust. He could keep his mouth shut and perhaps, just perhaps, they might have the opportunity to meet again.

Zechs sighed softly as he leaned back against the cool marble slab that made the shower wall. The coolness of the surface made for a small distraction to his public mind, though there was no one at the hotel capable of penetrating his shields to access even that level of consciousness. Quatre was too weak a telepath at this time to be a danger to his shield's security, and he had performed a perfunctory scan of the hotel seeking any trace of a high talent mind, and he knew no one was a danger to his personal thoughts security.

He had secrets to keep and so he needed to be assured of who might be capable of reading him and it was rather an eye opening experience.

Keeping secrets from even close friends was not something which had concerned him in the past and, given he knew something of the investigation taking place at the University, he was now aware of certain needs that must be faced beyond Tsuberov. When he left the University and was contracted to some corporation, politician or agency, as he surely would be, he would be expected to maintain potentially sensitive information behind solid shields. He had been told, of course, by those instructors preparing him to enter the big wide world, but it had never before seemed real, the need to cater to that other world.

The professional world of real life beyond an exclusive educational facility.

Tsuberov would not always be there as his protection. He would be entering the working world as a professional, supposedly capable of functioning for the good of his employer, and that included keeping potentially sensitive information secure. The Duke Khushrenada was involved in highly sensitive cases that could potentially topple governments should the wrong people learn what he knew.

One's personal shields would be more than one's personal security against intrusion by people's every day thoughts. The shields he had been so painstakingly taught to erect and maintain were there to secure information from others, as much as protect him from their day to day thoughts, dreams and nightmares. When a case, contract, or business arrangement was completed that information must still be protected.

Was it any wonder the Prime's shields required attention?

Zechs was suddenly aware it was vital he pay more than lip service to his studies if he did not wish to fail dismally in the real world.

He pressed his back against the stone, savouring the coolness against his back even as the hot water beat at his front. It was decadent luxury to do it.

The world was an amazing place. Who would have thought anyone would line their showers with marble slabs? It was an extravagant, even decadent, use of expensive stone. A demonstration of the gulf between the social classes.

That was what was wrong with the ESUN, he mused. Class distinctions were so very obvious in a society that prided itself on equality. It was a joke. A sorry, sordid and not very funny joke. There were people out there starving, dying. Children who ran the streets, starving and wearing tatty clothes, whose nimble fingers were all that separated them from starvation and living. And there were the fat cats who had money to burn and the greed to do nothing more than earn more money for the sake of simply having it. There was the middle class who put their heads down and concentrated on staying out of the gutter and lamented never being able to share the dreams of the rich, who worked from daylight to dark, dark to daylight to keep their home and give their children a chance at a better life.

A chance some of those children would throw away without a care, intent on a spiral to self destruction.

He must ensure he did not fall for that trap. He had been given a chance at a far better life than he could have imagined not so long ago. He was one of the fortunate ones, and he needed to make use of the chance presented to him.

Inequality, it was everywhere. That was what was wrong with the world around him, not that he would ever be able to do anything about it. He was well aware it was not his place to lead but to follow. That was where his future lay. The lesson had been drilled into him often enough in the past.

Know your place.

He was only too aware of his roots. He had lived in an orphanage where the showers were lined with laminex sheeting and, if you were not quick, the water ran cold. Those hurried sessions under the noisy plumbing were still very much in his memory, and it seemed a hideously decadent thing to be standing here with hot water streaming over him and cool marble pressed to his back.

//It must be costing Tsuberov a fortune to keep us resident in this pricy place.//

There were other hotels in the area and they were far from trashy, nor did they cater to the common tourist market, but no, Tsuberov had boarded them in the lap of luxury. Quatre had not even blinked when they had first been shown to their suite. It was what the Winner heir was accustomed to living with when at home and demonstrated so clearly the gulf between them.

The thought of the smaller blonde drew a wince as it brought with it the reminder of why he was hiding out in the bathroom, lurking in the shower and baking his front while cooling his back. Flooding his body and mind with sensation was a defence against intrusion.

He knew he had to be blushing at the idiocy of his actions, but he really wanted to avoid his friends and their endless questions. Neither of his roommates would let him alone and they would start in on him again, picking at him, digging, trying to get him to reveal what he knew. Information he had promised to keep to himself.

He simply could not tell them what he had learned from the Prime, either about the Prime having questionable shields or the sorry state of their old dorm suite. And he certainly could not tell them how that man made him feel.

Trust Quatre to find the means to turn the tables on him with no effort. The Winner had a knack for knowing just what to say at the exact right time to set him on the run from them.

His quiet interlude was destroyed by heavy handed pounding on the door. "Zechs! We have to be in the reception room in twenty minutes! What is taking you so long in there? Are you jacking off?"

God, Maxwell could be so crude! Zechs actually caught himself cringing.

"Duo! Don't be crude. Zechs, hurry up!"

Winner sounded as horrified as he felt, but at least the pounding stopped. Zechs leaned his head back and stepped forward, allowing the spray to cascade over his face. He would have to move, he had not honestly thought he had spent so long in the bathroom. It was utter luxury to be able to stand under the hot water for so long.

Another hated formal dinner in the restaurant to look forward to, when his preferred option would have been to nip out the rear entrance and head down the road to partake of a take out burger and chips… or perhaps sushi? Anything would have been preferable in his opinion to another five course sideshow, where the rich and famous and the up and coming want-to-be's of the ESUN were given another viewing of the quality of Tusberov students. The Board of Governors had turned the disaster in the dorms into a promotional sideshow and Zechs hated the attention.

With a low growl of displeasure he shut off the flow of water and proceeded to towel himself dry, vigorously rubbing his hair to get the bulk of the water out.

He could have been spared this round of the side show had he work in the laboratories waiting for him, but that was rostered for the following evening. Personal preferences were of no concern to Tsuberov and the idea any of their students would settle for, even prefer, a take out meal would have horrified the establishment. At least he was working the next night and he could have his meal in the cafeteria; and perhaps he might be fortunate enough to have an audience other than the technicians?

He could only hope, but even as he thought it he crushed that small rebellion of desire. They were Primes, working Primes. They had far more to do that watch him taking baby steps toward their level. It was not their place to babysit him and it was something far more than babysitting duties he wanted from one of those Primes.

He knew his face flamed at the thought and he refused to look in the mirror. He could only hope they would think he was pink from a really hot shower and spare him comment. Ah, he could dry his hair, that would give him enough time to gain control of himself again. Perhaps, if he was fortunate, he might have them in attendance of a work session once more before their business at the University was concluded.

Renewed pounding on the bathroom door drew a scowl from him and an honest flash of temper heightened his colour. He wrapped a towel around his hips, flung the door open, hairdryer in hand, and pointed it menacingly at Duo Maxwell, the source of the door pounding.

"I'm getting dressed! Fuck off!"

————————————————-

Duo stared into blue eyes spitting fire and then found himself staring at the door as it slammed in his face. After a long moment he turned to grin at Quatre.

"He looked pissed."

The slightly shorter blonde shook his head slowly, huffing a breath of disbelief at the irrepressible nature of his friend. It took a lot to make Duo Maxwell back off and reconsider his actions, and at the present time he looked inordinately pleased with himself.

"Will you please stop teasing him, Duo? You know how he hates these affairs, and after the way you have exploited every opportunity to push him about this afternoon… and about the Duke of all things…" Quatre shook his head. "Your trouble is that you never know when to quit."

"I know well enough when to quit, Kitty Kat and I promise I will be good tonight. I won't so much as mention the subject of what happened this afternoon, or the fact that I know he's sweet on that Prime hunk of stud wandering around the University." Duo grinned, unrepentant at Quatre's theatrical groan at his play on words. "I'll be such a good boy that you'll reward me with a lollipop."

"Oh please! You really can push too far."

"Hey, I said I'd behave."

"Make sure you remember that, " Quatre sighed.

The meal would, naturally, be a formal occasion and they were expected to dress accordingly. Quatre buttoned the last of his jacket's buttons, smoothing a hand over the fine wool blend in an unconscious gesture. He had chosen a suit of deep blue with a pale blue shirt beneath, the colour just right to emphasise the aqua of his eyes. He was, as usual, the first to finish dressing and determined to hurry Duo along.

Duo spread his arms akimbo and struck a pose, tossing his chestnut braid over his shoulder to drape down the front of his black jacket and the whiter than white shirt.

"What do you think? Shirt washed, ironed and tucked in, no holes in the knees of my trousers, courtesy of the Tsuberov Laundry Department, and no pockets turned out. Pass muster, yes? All ready to go and charm the socks off of the rich little old ladies who drool over us every night."

"As usual, you scrub up well when you can be bothered to put in the effort. All ready? I don't think so. Socks, while they are black and do blend in, do not necessarily complete the look."

Duo looked down to his sock clad feet and grinned. "Oh yeah. Shoes. Thanks, Mom."

It was not the first time, nor would it be the last, that Quatre had been called Mom and he merely rolled his eyes and turned away from the bathroom now that peace had been restored. He was briefly tempted to turn back to the bathroom and remind Zechs to watch his language; it would not do for any of their instructors to overhear him swearing after all. However, given the real danger of Zechs erupting into a verbal tirade if he was pushed any further, Quatre decided to forego that admonishment.

Duo had been pushing hard every chance he'd had throughout the day, and everyone had their limits.

He needed to survive the night without Zechs picking up on anything that he and Duo had learned. His braided friend had a penchant for pushing just that little bit too far, despite his claims to the contrary. Quatre was curious, yes, he admitted that, but he did not like to keep the blonde at a distance. He worried that Zechs might think he was putting him off, as so many others had in the past. He was only too aware of how certain persons had been treating Zechs at Tsuberov. Though Quatre had not been present during the early days he had witnessed enough since he joined the University to understand the gulf in class distinctions Zechs had experienced.

It was not everyone at the University, of course, just a core few who made life uncomfortable and gave the children of wealthy families a reputation for being stuck up prigs with nothing better to do than annoy the hard working middle and lower classes. It annoyed Quatre, the class distinctions prevalent in the ESUN in a day and age where there was supposed to be equality and equal opportunity.

Too many people were too conscious of every little difference between them, and they either flaunted their 'superiority' or, on the opposite end of the scale, bemoaned their inadequate lot in life.

He had always had everything he could possibly desire in material things and he knew it was a privileged life style. Along with that privilege though went a host of responsibilities most people did not consider, unless, like he, one was stuck with being the heir apparent to a corporation that spanned the Earth Sphere. Quatre had been taught what he possessed was a privilege and not a right; he had to earn his place, not merely expect to maintain it.

Too many of his peers failed to understand that lesson early in their careers, and many of them would learn it the hard way as time passed. His father had been a hard task master and they had had their misunderstandings and outright disagreements; the arguments had been frightful on occasion, but he could not deny his father had prepared him for the day he must step up to his place as his successor. He still had a long way to go, but he was more aware of the real world through his association with his dorm mates than many of his contemporaries.

The bathroom door opened behind him and he turned to find Zechs glaring around him as though he expected to find something nasty waiting for him, pale gold skin gleaming and towel hitched around the narrow hips. He really was a delectable piece of male flesh and Quatre always appreciated the view. Looking was nice, but he had made it a rule not to touch soon after meeting the older youth.

He had found what he wanted, what he desired, in a certain Trowa Barton and he knew Zechs Marquise was not interested… for Zechs that kind of interest had only recently sparked with the appearance of a particular russet haired Prime Talent. Quatre was far from blind.

"I've sent him off to finish dressing, so if you are quick you should be able to make it to your room before he comes back out."

"Thanks, Quatre."

Duo had pushed too far, he realized beneath the scrutiny of those crystal blue eyes. There was a wariness in Zechs he had not noted since their early days, when neither Duo nor Zechs had been sure why the Winner heir should lower himself sufficiently to notice their presence.

It was time to back off and let Zechs alone and, hopefully, he would be cautious enough around them not to ask questions they did not need asked any more than he wanted them to question him.

"He won't be as annoying over dinner, Zechs."

A snort was all the response he received as Zechs, with a flash of pale hair, made himself scarce and Quatre sighed, running a hand down the creases of his trousers. He wished he dared grow his hair that long, just to see if it could look half as magnificent as that waterfall of moonlight. His father would probably have a fit though. A conniption was something the elder Winner entertained rarely, but all too often when it came to his son.

"So, oh personal diary who knows all things social, who is on the guest list for this evening?"

Ah, so all was not lost yet, eh? Zechs was still willing to talk to him and Quatre felt his mood lighten a little. It was his hair; maybe he might give it a try, although he certainly would not want it quite as long as Duo's mane, perhaps a bit shorter than Zechs' too.

"The usual; a couple of Professors, two members of the Board of Governors and a selection from the student body, including Princess Relena and the daughter of a Board of Governors member, Sylvia Noventa. I hear Sylvia and the Princess are almost inseparable lately."

"Is it my imagination or is the guest list getting larger with each dinner we are forced to endure?"

Quatre sat on the couch, tweaking the creases of his trousers as he did so and ensuring he acquired no creases in his jacket. "No, it is not your imagination."

"At least they have not compounded the agony by insisting we dress in uniform. Suits are bad enough."

What was it with Duo and Zechs and this mutual dislike of dressing well? Both of the young men looked 'to die for' in a suit, though admittedly they needed to up the quality of their tailor. It was something Quatre had tried to make them understand many times in the past, and he thought he had found just the right means of getting the message across. This might be as good a time as any to float the idea.

"But you look so good in a suit. Both of you do."

"I feel like I am in a straight jacket all the time, that I can't loosen up and have a good time. The suit means formality and formality means uncomfortable."

"So it's a psychological thing?" Qutare mused.

"No. Purely physical. I feel restricted in movement and some days its hard to breathe… although that latter might just be psychological, I'll admit that much."

Quatre grinned as Duo joined him, the braided youth flopping unceremoniously onto the couch and pulling at his bowtie with one finger in his collar.

"I know what you mean." Duo hunched his shoulders and rotated his left shoulder before he shrugged and sat back in an ungainly flop. "Just can't get comfortable, no matter how good they are supposed to make me look."

"Mr. Modesty, that is what you are," Quatre snickered. "You both look very good in a suit and if you insist you feel uncomfortable all the time, and its not just a psychological thing, then I have the perfect solution."

"And what might that be?" Zechs appeared in the doorway, tucking a white dress shirt with ruffled front into black trousers.

"Now both of you are going to agree to this, I want no arguments as I intend to prove a point. I have been trying ever since I arrived at Tsuberov to get you to see a decent tailor. The tailor makes the suit, just as the suit makes the man, gentlemen. I'm going to have my personal tailor drop by and take your measurements for a new suit. I will be paying for that suit to be made and you both will wear them, without complaint. After you have worn the suit for a full evening at a formal gathering, you will tell me the difference between the suits you have been wearing, and the really well tailored piece of clothing my tailor will provide you."

"Quatre…"

"Kitty Kat…"

"No!"

Oh, he just knew they would protest and he had had quite enough of this. He was determined to see those deliciously male bodies in something really decent, and if he could just get Zechs outfitted and parade him in front of a particular Prime… he was sure there would be a respectable puddle of drool to mark the Prime's interest. He would deal with the problem of getting the Prime to attend such a function after he got the suit onto his friend's back.

Step one, give them no ground to refuse him.

Quatre stood and turned to face both young men, glaring fiercely at each in turn. "Zechs, its your final year at Tsuberov and we are going to call it your graduation present from me. Shut up and don't argue with me about it again. Duo, you will need to look your best at Zechs's graduation ceremony. You know Tsuberov puts on a big to do and you don't want Zechs to outshine you because of the quality of the tailoring, do you? I intend for both of you to leave your critics floundering, so shut up before you can think of any excuses. Hurry up and get ready, I'll be waiting in the foyer."

The door to the hallway slammed closed behind Quatre and Duo blinked, turning to look at Zechs who stared at the door with a look that screamed 'Oh shit'.

"He's a bit tetchy, don't ya think?"

"When he gets like that is usually best to give him a little time and then talk him down."

Duo stood, straightening his clothing, surveying himself as best he could. "Nothing wrong with my tailor… is there?"

"I thought not, since I am using the same one." Zechs turned and moved back to his room. "You have to admit there is a large discrepancy between the price of our clothing and the price of Winners, but it's not as though we are purchasing off the rack. Perish the thought of buying off the rack and attending Tsuberov, it's just not done."

"Yeah, but it can't make that much of a difference surely? I mean, it's just a suit." Duo chewed at his lower lip. "What did he have to go and get all huffy about?"

"Apparently it does make a difference and if we can't talk him around then, I guess, we shall find out."

—————————————

"Treize? I thought you would have headed for home hours ago."

"Good evening, Sally."

He had been putting the finishing touches on his daily report, or so he hoped it appeared to the woman leaning through his doorway. She was dressed for the cool night air and given the time of night she would be heading for home, Chang having departed nearly two hours previously.

There were some days he found himself wondering if the couple saw enough of each other to see their relationship secure. Their working hours were very different and Chang, being a Field Agent, was on call at all hours of the day and night and could find himself with little to no warning heading for the opposite side of the planet or into space. Then there was Sally's profession to be considered, the duties of a physician were never light. The woman was a specialist in her field and as such was always in demand. Where, in their careers, did their marriage fit in?

"Something I can do for you, Treize? Be it in a professional capacity, or simply as a friend?"

She slipped through his door, closing it pointedly behind her and choosing to perch on the corner of his desk. That pose, he mused, appeared to be her favourite and it allowed her to look down at the person seated behind the desk, transferring the power position to the physician. It was no accident but a subtle working of psychology she employed, just one of many little tricks in her arsenal.

He supposed he should open up and inform her of everything, but he was not comfortable enough with the events of the day to do that. Not at this time. Certainly had Gabriella not been imminently accessible to him then he might have; in fact he was sure he would have, spoken to her. However, he trusted the Romany Prime, annoying and infuriating as she could be, and she had taken her own steps to safeguard his shields. The colossal cheek of the woman though, to pull a training Psychic into a bond to strengthen his shields.

By rights he should report her for such a serious breach of etiquette, but he did not want to cause trouble for Marquise.

Gabriella could weather any storm that came her way, he had no doubts about her skills at survival, but they had a tender youngster to think of. Gabriella, damn her, knew that he knew she would do nothing to endanger the younger man, physically, mentally or by reputation. She was there, linked into the three way fold, monitoring them both day and night.

Unorthodox, and frankly illegal as it was, her method had worked.

He could not deny that his shields were in far better condition now than they had been in the preceding weeks, and that change was brought about after only one brief session lasting mere fragments of a second. Direct mind to mind contact with Zechs Marquise was something of an experience. The younger man's shields were incredible and Treize wanted to learn more of how Zechs had fashioned them.

Such different training techniques Tsuberov must be employing to craft such clarity and diamond hard security into his shields. The young man's shields, in every way, were to be envied. If others could learn the technique…?

Zechs, in that one brief contact, had repaired much of the damage his shields had taken over the course of the past year, not all of it by any measure, but a great deal none the less. Treize needed time to sit down and analyze the work that had been done; review exactly what it was Zechs had done to accomplish the change.

The deed itself had occurred in such a way that it was patently clear it was second nature to the younger man to note a faulty shield and act to correct it. Zechs had not even thought about what he was doing, merely reacted to the frayed shield he encountered. He had touched the tatters, drawing the ragged gaps together and… well… for want of a better word Treize decided 'polished' was as apt a description as he could define.

Yes, that seemed to be the closest description to describe what he had seen. Marquise had drawn the tears together, somehow sealing them into an unbroken seam and then polished the seal until Treize was hard pressed to find the ragged tear. He needed the time, place and peace to go deeply into himself and study exactly what had been accomplished.

But it was not good to sit wool gathering in front of this particular woman. Sally was dangerously perceptive and if she determined her particular skills were required, and her patient was viewed as reluctant to succumb to her control, she would exercise her authority over him.

"No, nothing. I was just finishing off some paper work while I had the opportunity."

Blue eyes studied him intently and delicate fingers flicked toward the folder on his desk. "Have you finished here? I was about to head home and I can offer you a home cooked meal if you would like? It's Wu Fei's turn to cook tonight, so it will most likely be Chinese, but I think you don't mind Chinese, right? It will be authentic Chinese, too, not take out."

Treize chuckled, honestly surprised by the revelation. "Chang can cook?"

"Quite well actually, though he continually apologizes for the quality of the meal. He can't cook Italian though," Sally grinned "he's absolutely hopeless with Italian. Mind you, he's not bad with Japanese, absolutely excellent with Chinese, and he is a dab hand with an omelette."

The vision of Chang Wu Fei wearing a frilly apron with the words 'Kiss the cook' flashed into his mind and he knew she had projected it deliberately at him. It was a memory too, not a play on imagination and it was enough to make him laugh out loud.

"Well, one learns something new about one's partner every day. No, Sally, I'm quite content, gastronomically speaking, for the moment. I had a snack a little while ago."

"If you are sure you are not hungry, then how about you come for the company? It has to be better than going home to that empty loft of yours."

She was determined to mother hen him, but he was not in the mood for more of Chang Wu Fei tonight. He saw quite enough of his partner through the day, and tonight, well… he had much to think on tonight. No, he was quite content to go home to his comfortable, if all too empty of company, loft.

"Another time, perhaps, I shall enjoy the culinary skills of your husband. To be honest I need to spend a little time working on my shields. I'm afraid I was a little… tetchy… at one stage today and lost my temper. Rather than allow myself to chance flavouring the psychic ether in an unthinking moment, I will take this evening to work on my shields. It is as good a time as any to meditate and tone things down."

Of course being that honest had its drawbacks and he could see the beginnings of that particular gleam in her blue eyes that held the potential for trouble.

"You lost your temper? What has that husband of mine done now?"

Ah, of course she would think that, and he could honestly assure her Chang had nothing to do with his fit of pique. Better to explain a little of what it was that set him off, and as the Medical Officer for this division of the Agency she would need to know. Gabriella's actions could, and definitely would, affect the case until he could get her to remove the restrictions she had placed.

"It was not anything Wu Fei did, I assure you. Gabriella… Gabriella has chosen to interfere with the case to a certain degree. It has nothing to do with your husband."

Sally frowned, setting her handbag on his desk and it was clear she was not satisfied and therefore not moving. "What has she done that would interfere in the case?"

How to not make it sound more than an inconvenience? She had the power to pull him from the case and he was bound and determined to finish the murder at Tsuberov.

"Gabriella, in her infinite wisdom, has placed a limitation factor on my working levels; reinforcing the limitation with a cut off factor should I push too hard. The woman is impossible."

Sally snorted, her eyes intense. "The Prime struck me as being a great deal more than she lets on with that pushy, adorable and impossible Gabriella routine. She struck me as being a shrewd woman who knows exactly how to get what she wants and where to draw the line when it comes to matters of psychic ability. So, given I am not at all fooled by her eccentric old lady spiel, kindly be honest and tell me just how bad your shields are and how heavily has she restricted you."

Okay, maybe he should have outright lied; this might be a little more complicated than he had thought. He would not be removed from the case and that was something he would need to ensure they understood. Not even Gabriella would succeed in removing him from the case, if she dared to even try. Some things he would tolerate and other things… well, best they not trespass there.

"My dear Sally, I assure you Gabriella would be the first person to pull me off the case and wrap me in cotton wool if I was not up to performing my job. All she has done is set a safety feature in place to stop me from going too deep… or, to be more precise, from going beyond what she considers to be too deep. The entire reason behind her doing this was to jog me into doing some much needed, and too long delayed, work on my shields. That work I will begin tonight, as soon as I return to my loft and the old busy body will then remove her restrictions upon her return."

"And if she does not?"

Then he would take great delight in… well, he would think of something, but he would not mention that here and now. No, Gabriella only wanted him to work on his protections and he admitted she had a point. He was laggardly about attending to his needs. The Agency had kept him to a tight schedule and he had allowed it, more fool him, now he must deal with the aftermath of Gabriella coming to sort matters out.

"Between her and you, I am sure that will not be a problem. I informed you, did I not? I am not attempting to hide anything from my Medical Officer and you performed a series of tests the other day. Things have not changed dramatically since then and you passed me for work."

Sally sighed. "True enough. I think I need to have a long talk to this woman though."

"Oh, I do not doubt she will have words with you before she departs. She will likely take great pleasure in pulling me apart for your inspection. I am insisting on a vacation when this case is over and Gabriella will likely gut anyone who dares to suggest I work instead of rest. Stop mother henning me, though I must say it is rather nice to have you fuss over me. You have a much more genteel bedside manner than Gabriella."

Sally snorted softly in amusement and gathered her bag. "Are you sure you will not come home for dinner with me?"

"Quite sure, Sally. I do have work to do."

"Well, you will eat something a little more appropriate to your calorie requirements than a snack, you hear?"

"Yes, Mother. All I have to do is activate the video consol in my room and get the kitchen to send something up on my return home."

"Be sure you do." She paused at the door to the office. "In fact I will check with your Building Supervisor in the morning. In the interests of your health and as your Medical Officer," she smirked.

"Women," Treize sighed as the door closed behind her.

"I heard that!"

Rolling his eyes Treize turned his attention to completing his report, suddenly more than eager to leave the office. Sally was a good friend and on any other night he might have taken her up on her offer of a meal and company, but not tonight. He did have his shields to attend to and he really did not wish for the company of his partner. While he did not exactly blame Wu Fei for the loss of his control and the appearance of Gabriella, he could not deny the fact his temper was on too short a fuse to chance rekindling the flame. Wu Fei had a habit of bringing out the snippy side of him and tonight he wanted anything but excitement.

Sitting back from the desk, stretching cramped muscles in his shoulders, he decided he really needed a physical work out. It was too late to get in some gym time he decided, but he needed to schedule a really decent work out, perhaps a sauna and massage after it. A little physical pampering could go a long way to relieving stress. Deciding enough work for the day had been done, and he did not wish to chance being dragged into anything by lingering too long, he escaped the Agency before anyone could think of something only he could do. He noted Une was still at work and he took particular care not to be noted by her.

Once on the streets he paused and looked around, deciding it was too lovely a night to simply go home. He needed some exercise and a walk would do, the streets were not so crowded as during the day and there was a city park only a few blocks down. An evening constitutional would give him some air and exercise and when he was done he could walk back, pick up the car and head home to his apartment block.

It was too early in the evening for the muggers and opportunists to make the park unattractive and it was not as though he would be unobserved after all. He had his watchdogs guarding his back after his recent temper tantrum. Gabriella had been furious he had not received a bodyguard, he was a Prime, after all, and he knew to placate her Une had assigned a team to watch him, day and night. He was only too aware of their presence.

He would take great delight, once Gabriella had departed and things returned to normal, in informing Une she could reassign those agents to more productive activity.

It was indeed a pleasant evening and he was not the only citizen out for an evenings walk. There were theatre goers, dressed to the nines, women in expensive gowns and gentlemen in their crisp tuxedos. The police presence in this district was relatively high and the streets were safe to walk as a result, perfect for a casual stroll. There were young couples out for dinner and perhaps a movie, the dance clubs were soon to open and generally he received an ambient air of contentment from those he passed.

The park was well lit at this hour, making it safe for young lovers to walk hand in hand, bodies pressed close and their emotional gradients radiating between warmth and raging lust. There were late workers exercising their pets, people doing Tai Chi and Yoga, and a group of joggers as well as a group of teenagers having what looked to be a party over by the lake.

It was relaxing to stroll along the path, watching couples stealing a romantic interlude from the day. It would, he admitted to himself, be nice to walk hand in hand with another warm body; to admire the moonlighted parklands with a lover pressed close. To steal a kiss or three and walk closely together, physical warmth shared as well as mental and on returning to home one could indulge in some heated and much anticipated loving.

The momentary flash of moonlight on blonde hair in a crowd drew a flush of warm longing, and for once he made no effort to stamp on the emotion. His shield was secure, no one was with him, no one could read him… just this once he could imagine what it would be like to walk with that lithe young body pressed to his side, his arm perhaps draped around broad shoulders or perhaps curved around a slender waist, fingers spread to rest his palm against the rising curve of a firm… No, that was enough for now.

No need to stir things up. It was nice to dream just a little, and he knew it was wishful thinking, it might always remain noting more than a daydream, but that was alright. Perhaps it might actually happen, in time.

It came as something of a shock, ice water dousing the comfortable warmth of his inner fire, to catch the mental flavour he had not expected. It was brief, just a fleeting touch, the barest awareness of that unique mind, but he knew it was not imagination. He had no sooner sensed it than it vanished, and his automatic questing probe to find it again failed.

But it had been there. He had caught the unmistakable flavour of the mind that had raged and killed once already.

Treize leaned his back against an old Elm, rested his head back against the strong trunk and deepened his probe, seeking any trace of the mind in his vicinity. It had been there, an echo of pain in the flavour of it. Wherever the killer was though he was alert, aware and… seeking?

But what… or who… had he been seeking?

——————————

He had to be honest with himself and admit that dinner had not been quite so dreadful as he had expected. He would, admittedly, have preferred to return to the suite and work on his art assignment, but he was now conscious of things he had previously ignored; things he could no longer ignore.

He was to become a Prime talent and, as he had so often been told before by his instructors, with exceptional talent and the position of a Prime ranking, there were certain requirements he must fulfil. These requirements were more than training his talent to his limits, they were requirements that were far more down to earth and mundane; he needed to acknowledge, and accept, his human requirements.

Tsuberov's instructors had been demanding, training him for the necessities of working amidst polite society and, he admitted, he had fought them every inch of the way. He had chosen not to acknowledge the truth of what would be expected of him when he left the protection of Tsuberov's borders, stubbornly refusing to think of life beyond those sheltering walls.

Polite society on the social level was something distant, something unrelated to who Zechs Marquise fundamentally was. Zechs was an orphan, a sometime child of the streets, not one who was born to the gilded halls of aristocracy, or to the expansive mansions of the mega business moguls. Zechs was not even of the upper middle class, yet he walked the halls of Tsuberov and learned of his talent and he received the same education as the children of the upper classes.

Someone had noted something about him that set him apart from his contemporaries, and because he was different the world he had grown up in was barred to him. He was excluded from it, given over to a new world where he was expected to learn the ways of people who had never gone hungry, who had never slept in the street, who had never fought to be first in the shower just so one could wash one's hair in hot water.

It was a different world and one he would never escape, his talent would not permit him to return to the old way.

After making the acquaintance of two Prime talents how could he now ignore what would be expected of him in both skill and competency on the job, and in the manners and etiquette required for him to circulate amidst polite circles?

Duke Treize Khushrenada, T/E Prime and the wonderful and frightening persona that was the Prime Gabriella.

Tsuberov was all theory and practise to attain perfection, and while he had paid lip service to his instructors of life skills for interacting with what would become his contemporaries, he had never actually believed he would be a part of that world. But the Primes… they were reality. They changed everything.

He could not ignore what he had been told, what he had been taught; what he had for so long denied was to be his lot in life.

On completion of his training he would take a place amongst the nine others who shared the same scope of talent. Prime Gabriella had made that abundantly clear with spoken word as well as mind to mind, the language a telepath could speak best, and she had promised so much. It was not the material things she promised that changed his outlook, but the intangible but vitally important emotional support he had missed in his growing years.

She had promised she would be there for him, that all nine of them would be there for him.

He did not want to be in this gilded restaurant, but he was. He did not want to be included in polite society, but he was. He was because it was now his future and wanting to avoid it was a left over of an angry young teen that had been given no choice in the abrupt displacement of all that he had known. This was now his reality and he was no longer a teenager full of anger at what he had seen as betrayal.

What he would really like to do was slip out of the hotel and spend the night running the streets as he used to do. It would have been his final hurrah to the old Zechs, the one who was free to please himself. It would have been his final acknowledgement of all that was past and his acceptance of all that was future.

In the end running the streets as he had had gotten to be too much for him. The constant voices in his head; the emotions that had filled him and were not of his own making had made his skin crawl all the time. He had felt everyone wanted to live in his skin and it had been driving him to greater and greater excesses to try to escape it.

No, the streets had been sending him insane, he would have died there, and he knew it. Now it would be different if he ran the streets, he had shields now. Tsuberov had been good for that at least, teaching him to protect what was fundamentally Zechs Marquise. If he ventured into the streets now he would survive them.

"Good evening. Zechs Marquise, isn't it?"

One look at the young woman speaking to him and Zechs's body took over from his stunned mind. He stood in a single graceful movement and that movement continued into a bow to the shorter young woman smiling up at him as he straightened.

"My goodness! I hadn't realized you were quite that tall, Mr. Marquise. May I join you for a few minutes?"

//Why? What the heck does she want with me?// But of course one could not say that. That was not done, particularly to a Princess. "Of course, Your Highness."

Relena, Crown Princess of Sanc, smiled as she settled herself into a chair and looked expectantly at him then at the chair beside her. Being only a little over five feet in height Zechs towered over her and it made him even more self conscious of just who she was.

He spared a frantic glance around the room, hoping Quatre might be free to come to his rescue, but could not see his friend in the immediate vicinity, and that meant it was all up to him. Again his body acted with no conscious direction and Zechs found himself seated beside the Princess who seemed to be staring rather intently into his face. That did not seem all that polite to him, but he could not exactly call her on it. One did not tell a Princess she was staring… did one?

What was he to do now?

"I believe that this will be your final year at Tsauberov?"

Oh good, she opened the conversation. He could answer questions, but what did she want with him? The Princess of Sanc was in her first year at Tsuberov and, if memory served, she was a telepathic suggestor, a related field of psychic ability but quite different from his own talent.

"Yes. Yes, it is my final year here… ma'am."

Relena pulled a face. "Please, Relena is fine. Titles and Ma'am's, Madam and Miss… Of course Miss makes me feel like a little girl with pig tails, but the titles, they make me feel positively ancient and I'm only seventeen. You wouldn't want to make me feel old, would you?"

"I… No, of course not."

Was he blushing? Oh, he just knew he had to be as red as a strawberry and with his colouring that was just a horrible thought.

"Good. I can call you Zechs, yes?" A bright sunny smile changed a pretty teenager into a stunning young woman. "I have to admit that I have wanted to meet with you since I saw you in the cafeteria the first week of term. I've been angling for a chance ever since."

She, the Princess of Sanc, Miss Popularity in the junior year if the rumour mill had it right, had wanted to meet with him since the beginning of the year? Why? He was nobody, the orphan no one wanted to adopt because he was seen as too wild and independent to be a good child. He was certainly not Mr. Popular at Tsuberov, so why did the girl want to meet him?

"Why? I mean… Well…" God, the blush had to be getting worse!

Her exquisite blue eyes widened and her smile faltered. "Why did I wish to make your acquaintance? I would have thought that was clear, Zechs. I wanted to find out which cousin you are, of course. I wanted to fill in your name on my personal copy of the family tree."

t.b.c.

Karina Robertson 2009

Notes:

Zechs Marquise: Psi Student 5th year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Level 10 Receiving/Projecting Empath [approaching Prime Designation] + Level 9 Sending /Receiving Telepath, Projected L10 function. Finder function suspected, not officially registered. Country of origin, Luxemburg. [20 years of age]

Duo Maxwell: Psi Student , 3rd year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Level 8 Psychokinetic ability, projected level 9. Sending Telepath Level 5. Colony of Origin L2 Cluster [ 18 years of age] Sweeper adoptee. Under pre contract agreement with Sweepers.

Quatre Rababer Winner: Psi student, 2nd year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Current Level 5 Telepath, projected Level 7, Current Level Receiving Empath 9.3, projected Level 10, Prime. Current Sending Empath Level 2, projected Level 4. Colony of Origin, L4 Cluster [18 years of age]

Treize Kushrenada : Level 10 Sending/Receiving Telepath + Receiving and Projecting Empath at Level 10. Prime rated. Agency Operative contracted term of 5 years with 2 years remaining. [25yrs of age] Training facility: Psychic Institute Munich Division.

Sally Po [Chang]: Level 4 Receiving Empath with linked Healers Ability graded Level 6 Agency Operative-Chief Medical Officer contracted term of 10 years with 6 years remaining. Training facility: Psychic Institute Beijing Division. [23 yrs old]

Relena Peacecraft: Sanc. Level 5 Telepathic Send function / Suggestor element Level 6, Receive function Level 3. Projected level Telepathic Send, Level 7, Suggestor Level 8, Receive function Level 5. Initial training Sanc, New Port City. Tsuberov student. First year present, second year study roster. [Age: 17 years]


	32. Chapter 32

Hi there

So sorry for the long delay on this chapter being posted and it didn't help that the internet monster ate the betaed version in transit to me. The lovely DarkSong has been very busy setting up a website to house some fics, its still a work under construction but if you are interested, here's a link.

/karina/

Hope you enjoy Agency.

Karina

0000000000000000000

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 32/??

Author: Karina

Many thanks to the wonderful ShenLong Deb for betaing this chapter for me.

Summary: The world took a very different turn with the acknowledgement and training of select psychic individuals enlisted in elite fields such as law enforcement and politics. A grading system for the strength of psionic abilities was developed and those who were the top of the elite have been dubbed Prime Talents and are highly sought after. Elite institutions have been developed to mark, train and employ individuals with useable psionic talents. The colonies of canon Gundam Wing do exist in this fic and were founded before the psionic system was founded.

… Empathic Impression translated from emotion into symbolic words.

The Agency: Meeting of Souls

Chapter Thirty Two

Put his name…on a… what?

Did she say… cousin?

She thought…? Why would she think he was her…?

No, he was… had to be… imagining things but…

That she was sitting next to him was real enough. She, Princess Relena of Sanc. The Crown Princess herself… and … and…

She was looking at him… weirdly. Why?

Somewhere during the course of the evening he had unwittingly stepped outside of reality and into a twilight zone; an 'other' reality where everything was skewed from the norm in warped and outlandish ways.

"I… excuse me? What… did you say?"

How very ungracious but… he had to say something. Didn't he? He couldn't just laugh in her face, not that he felt like laughing. This was just so… so wrong.

"You look surprised."

That, he could not help thinking, had to be the understatement of the century. The word 'surprised' hardly covered how he was feeling at the present time.

"I am sorry, I know I should have gone through the proper channels, but I saw the opportunity and decided to act upon it before someone could distract me. That happens a great deal, you know; people demanding my attention. Oh and I'm starting to ramble. Please accept my apologies. I am sorry. It is just… I miss the extended family, as you surely must, Cousin. I was hoping to talk to you about home. Tsuberov is, after all, very different to Sanc and the palace."

There was that word again. She tossed it around so casually, as though she expected him to be familiar with the concept of him being… family… the Cousin of the Crown Princess of Sanc.

He really had to be imagining this entire conversation… Dreaming? Had he fallen asleep from the supremely boring necessity of … No, he'd decided to behave and pay attention; to live as he had realized he must during a professional working life. The Primes… their presence made a difference to everything he had thought would be his future.

Duo then? Had Duo spiked the drinks? Concocted this outlandish scenario? Now that was a more plausible solution to the weirdness surrounding him. Damn, what cocktail of weirdness had Duo managed to get into his glass… and was it in only his? If Duo had spiked his drink was it not possible he had spiked the Princesses too? Had she received a dose by accident? Surely Duo would not be foolhardy enough to spike the drink of someone as prominently placed as Relena Peacecraft?

The Princess was talking rubbish, so it was pretty much a foregone conclusion that she had to have received a dose. How many more of them must make fools of themselves to amuse the braided terror when he was bored? Who would start climbing the walls or swinging from the chandelier?

But… No, that could not be right. Duo would not be such a fool as to spike the drinks at such an affair as this.

What was going on? He had wanted to know about his mother, about her family and who his father was and … he had wanted to know, but not even in his wildest daydreams had he entertained the notion of being a cousin to royalty.

It had to be someone's sick idea of a joke.

Her eyes were on him, boring holes into him. She was making the unreality of the moment worse as she was studying him with all of the attention a scientist devoted to studying the microscopic life in a drop of water. Her blue eyes were so intense and a small smile curved her lips… and there was a feather light touch across the back of his hand.

Burst of brilliant curiosity, hunger and loneliness. Such a sense of isolation in the midst of so many! Frustration at constant interruptions, constant expectations; constant disapproval. Fear. Fear of the future…

No! No he did not need that intensely personal awareness of her! It only made the unreality of the moment worse. He struggled to push the unwanted reading away from him; to focus only on the impossibility of what she was saying; that was better to focus on than to sink beneath the deluge of emotion surging within her.

"Zechs? You look a bit… flushed. Are you alright?"

No! No he was not alright.

He certainly was not 'alright', far from it, and he was flushed was he? Well, that was no surprise as he felt he was going to combust on the spot. Somewhere inside his head he was aware of a soft voice whispering insidiously that he needed to entertain better control. It warned him that there was no future for him if he did not maintain his control and, for the safety of others around him, he should know better.

All he wanted to do was to hide! To stay hidden; remain safely unobserved and obscure. He needed to moderate his reaction or he would have the entire room down with a migraine from overflow.

Control. Time to fall back on his basic training and use it to contain himself and the impossible situation. How long had he sat here looking like a stunned mullet? A deep breath, inhaled slowly and hold it, count slowly to a measured beat, one to five and exhale in a steady, gentle stream… and repeat.

What the hell was this all about? Was it someone's sick joke? Had Mueller put her up to this? It was certainly warped enough for the insufferable bore to have instigated, and Muller hated him. There had never been anything but antagonism between them, though to his knowledge he had never done anything to incur Mueller's contempt.

No, breathe; just breathe. He could feel the attention of two singularly distinctive minds focusing on him. He had to control himself or the Primes would want answers… and the entire situation was ridiculous. He had lost enough control to touch their awareness of him and he could only hope he would not be called to task over the matter. If he regained control quickly enough… He did not wish to disappoint either the Prime Gabriella or the Duke.

They had been wonderful to him. A breath of fresh air and hope for something better than his worst fears being realized.

Just breathe and get a hold of himself and then, then find out what the Princess really wanted.

"Princess Relena, how lovely it is to see you again."

What was he supposed to do in his life if he could not control himself when a girl spoke to him? Admittedly she was not just a girl, and she was not fumbling around with romantic aspirations. No, she was not… just… a girl.

He was thinking too much. He was thinking way too much, with no form or substance other than growing terror. Unreasoning fear, like before. The beginnings of a panic attack and he hadn't experienced one for a long time now. It was years since his last attack, but there was no excuse. He should be beyond unreasoning fear, beyond that reaction which had ruled his childhood. He had thought he had outgrown them!

But… Had he heard Quatre? Was he… saved?

"Quatre Winner, the pleasure is all mine. I know it is terribly impolite of me, and I am hopeful you will forgive me this one tinsy selfish time? Would you mind leaving us alone for a few minutes?"

Quatre… Oh God yes! It was Quatre! He hadn't been abandoned! Quatre was miraculously there, taking her hand and beaming at her as only Quatre could.

"Mr. Marquise and I were talking and I really have been waiting such a terribly long time for the opportunity to speak with him."

No, no! She could not send him off. He needed Quatre to tell her to go, not go himself.

The world was a confusing place, and it wasn't improving as it should. The breathing exercises did not appear to be working particularly well. There was so much noise; noise did not help. There was too much noise for him to take well; it only amplified his distress, brought something dark and horrible closer to the surface, something he did not want to remember.

There was a touch in his mind, a flow of reassurance; gentle and solid. It would help, it really would, if he could just get away from the noise.

He was surely going to burst into flame it was so hot, but it was cold too; terribly, terribly cold. He would either combust in on himself or he would surely throw up. Either option would ruin their nicely overdone restaurant and… and …

He so desperately wanted to lock himself in a dark closet, away from all the madness.

"Nothing would please me more than to see Zechs enjoying a conversation with you, but I am sorry, Relena. I think I need to take Zechs out of here for a few minutes."

There was the lightest of touches on his shoulder; a touch buffered by the clothing he wore and by shields almost as strong as his own. Quatre was what he needed now, an island of calm amidst the tumult of confusion. She was crushingly disappointed, he could feel her cold separation from everyone, her isolation so vivid against the warmth generated by Quatre and projected at him. Even in the midst of a crowd she was alone…

He did not mean to insult her but he had to get out!

To his left someone was tipsy and lost in daydreams of stripping the red gown from the back of the pretty woman across the room; of burying himself deep within her until he made her scream and himself along with her… he hated the dessert, but it was only polite to smile and compliment the menu… a momentary pique of interest from a strong and watchful personality… a sudden spike of concern… the insufferable itch! An insatiable itch caused through that rash, he really should get it looked at…

Block it all out, hide behind his shields, try not to cling and wail distress at the touch of Prime level minds… Place his trust in Quatre to get him out of the restaurant before he disgraced Tsuberov and himself.

So sorry, it was not her fault. He did not wish to insult her, or hurt her feelings, but he could not stay.

"I'm sure you will agree with me that Zechs does not look well at the moment. It would not do to make a scene here, as it would reflect badly on Tsuberov. I think it best I help him out of the restaurant, don't you?"

"Oh, Quatre please! I… We really do need to talk. I've tried repeatedly to see him and something happens every time and I have to attend to other things. But… I have to admit he does look a little… peaked."

Spike of concern from her, so close it rippled through his awareness, as vibrations would ripple through a gong struck a resounding blow. No, no. This was bad. He was going to throw up. Why could he read her emotions so well? She seemed to outshine everyone near them, impinging on his awareness inescapably.

If he could not get away he was going to throw up their very expensive meal, all over their terribly expensive carpet and brocade upholstered chair. There were too many impressions encroaching on him and he was trying his hardest to strengthen his shields. How long could he hold out? He had reassured the two attentive voices in his head that he was alright, but for how long could he claim that?

He wanted to hide, to crawl into a deep and dark place and let the world go away. As he had done before. It would all be much better if the world would simply go on without him for a time.

"I'm sorry, Relena, but I really think its best if I take Zechs up to his room."

He could feel the wavering in Quatre's emotions, the hesitation. He felt it too, the terrible isolation in the girl, so similar to Quatre's own isolation from the world. That exclusive upbringing known to the heirs to responsibility, who had no true life of their own… Yes, Quatre and Relena shared that.

"If you must talk to him, then I'll work something out, but for now; would you please wait a few minutes and, if anyone comments on our early departure, inform them that Zechs was just not feeling well. When you are sure no one is concerned then you can follow us up to the suite; if you can get away without arousing any attention."

"But… Oh, I'm not allowed to say 'but' am I? It's stupid, the things I have to do just to talk to someone I want to talk to."

Spike of temper, rising anger squashed beneath cold hard practicality.

"Alright. Alright, I'll try to keep anyone from asking questions, although I have no idea what is wrong with him. He seemed alright a moment ago; it was a rather sudden illness. So where will you be, Quatre? I really do need to speak with him."

"Give us a few minutes, distract any questions if you can and then find Duo Maxwell. Tell him what has happened and request he escort you up to the suite. If anyone asks, Zechs ate something that appears not to have agreed with him. Only talk to Duo about coming up to the suite, Your Highness, or someone will end up whispering in the wrong ears. I'll try to settle Zechs down, so take your time and give me a chance to work."

"What is wrong with him, Quatre?"

Anything. Promise her anything, tell her anything, just get him out of here before any more awkward questions could be raised. If any of the Professors noticed he would spend the night in the laboratories infirmary; and probably the next week as well. They would want to run tests to find out what had gone wrong with his shields.

That… would probably be for the better, though it would be the end of him graduating this year.

"Duo… Is that the boy with the wonderful chestnut braid? Alright, I can do that. I will run interference for you, but I will come upstairs and I will not wait all night. I.. We… really do need to talk, Quatre. Something just is not right about this whole business, and we need to talk about it."

Ah, God, would they just shut the hell up and let him throw up?

His head was thumping and all he wanted to do was rest. A nice dark room, a comfortable bed, even a chair, and blessed peace and quiet. The suite was psi shielded. It would be his best short term option and he needed to be there now!

"Alright, whatever, but I have to get him out of here. Zechs? I'm going to touch you and you really can't lash out at me, okay? I have to touch you physically to help you out of here, so grit your teeth and put up with the surge, okay? It's just Quatre and you know you can trust me."

There were hands on his cheeks; cool hands; palms and… flash of an ornate room and the eyes of his father… huge man towering over him, but there was only the impression of security and safety… laughter bubbling, so many women laughing… warming sunlight, bright summers day, breeze gently caressing his cheek, the song of birds…

Astonishing aqua eyes staring into his, catching and holding his attention. The wash of comforting impressions, of the wonder that was the Earth on his first sight of it surged through his senses. Not his awareness, not his own impressions, but he knew the one responsible. He recognized it, the flavour of the mind, the unmistakable emotional coolness; the quiet confidence and perpetual comfort.

Quatre.

The weight of an arm slipped around his waist and somehow he was on his feet, wavering slightly, but the arm firmed around his middle. It supported him confidently and he was showered with a steadying sense of calm emanating from the presence.

"Come on, Zechs. We need to get you out of here with as little fuss as possible. What say we just quietly walk out of the room and slip on over to the elevators, yes? There is no need for anyone to mark our departure. We've just had enough of the evening's entertainment, right?"

Oh yes, he had had quite enough of the evening and was only to willing to leave, but it was not polite; not at all polite to just… walk out on a Princess. He had to show… he was going to be sick, he just knew it… but he had to be polite.

"Quatre?"

"Shh, just concentrate on moving. We don't want to draw the Master's attention, do we? Best no one realize something is happening."

"Haven't had an attack… for a long time. Thought… free of it. The Princess…?"

What had happened to the Princess? Had he passed out? No, surely not, else they would not be quietly leaving the room and he would be on his way to the infirmary by now. So he hadn't passed out, more likely he had phased out mentally for her to have vanished as quickly and silently as she had.

"We will talk when we are back at the room, Zechs. There is plenty of time for that after we get this… whatever it is, overflow?... under control. Come on, pull it together and help, will you? You are too heavy for me to manhandle and… Damn, Otto is watching us."

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Relena smiled graciously at the Master, inclining her head regally as one was expected to do when one was the Crown Princess of Sanc. Small talk had its place, particularly if it covered your interest in locating a specific person unobtrusively and distracting attention from someone else. From the corner of her eye she watched as Quatre Winner and the taller blonde man slipped out of the reception room. Success, she determined following a quick look around and it appeared no one was paying any particular attention to the two, although… was that a frown appearing on Otto's face?

She had learned it was generally not a good thing if Otto frowned and yes, it did look like a frown; although one who did not know the taciturn Security Chief as well as she did might not notice the subtle nuances of his expression. Relena had grown up with Otto in her close proximity and she doubted there was an expression he was capable of producing that she had not learned to read, despite his best efforts to appear expressionless at all times.

She had become adept at holding inane conversations and people watching in a crowded room. It was part and parcel of being who she was, the future Queen of Sanc, but some days it annoyed her, like now, when she had a definite agenda to fulfil. A flash of rich chestnut caught her eye as the constant circulations of the clusters of people shifted and, thankfully, it was time to move on.

There was that astonishingly long braid of hair she was looking for and had itched to touch since first sighting it. That it was worn by a boy was more astonishing, and intriguing, as no one would wear that magnificent rope of hair without a reason. Relena liked exploring the intricacies of people. The braid beckoned, making her fingers twitch to touch and maybe, just maybe, she might get to lay her hands on the rope tonight. She would love to see that magnificent mane loose and cascading free.

But such thoughts were not to be entertained now. There were other things she wanted more than to run her fingers through rippling chestnut strands and time waited for no man, nor for the Princess of Sanc. With an extremely well practised smile, and just the lightest flutter of her eyelashes, she made her excuses to the Master and his companions, slipping with practised ease into the general tide of people moving about the reception room.

A quick glance around flashing a charming, and exhaustively practised smile at people who wanted to be seen talking with the Princess in their midst. Sliding gracefully through the bodies, not hesitating for a moment or she would be caught up in some inane conversation she could not care less about. Scanning faces… Otto was watching her and, if anything, that frown of his had deepened, which possibly meant he had noticed her ever so brief conversation with Zechs Marquise.

A flash of irritation was quickly controlled; Relena was quite put out with Otto over Zechs Marquise. She had been warned on two separate occasions, by Otto, not to approach Zechs and on both occasions no satisfactory explanation had been forthcoming. It was possible that she desired to escape Otto's attention more than Quatre Winner, as she had blatantly ignored the Security Chief's warnings and gone out of her way to meet the tall blonde man.

It had seemed only natural that she go to Otto and request he make the arrangements for her to engage in conversation in an informal setting with Mr. Marquise. Otto was known to her from their mutual days in the palace at Sanc, and she had always thought of him as a likable fellow. It had come as rather a shock when he had refused her initial request, suggesting she mind her lessons and walked off.

Politely, of course.

Otto was always unfailingly polite and proper with her. She had been shocked at his refusal and not a little put out, but of course, telling her to mind her lessons had done nothing but make her more determined to have that little discussion with her cousin. Her second attempt to have Otto arrange a formal meeting had resulted in Otto not so gently, in fact quite firmly, informing her to mind her lessons and to stay away from Mr. Marquise. Zechs had a great deal to accomplish in these few short months that marked his final year at Tsuberov. Mr. Marquise, she had been informed, did not need any minor distractions complicating his studies.

Relena had been called many things in her young life, but perhaps the most insufferable had been to be likened to a minor distraction. It was downright insulting and that Otto had smiled at her as he said it… for a frightening instant there she had almost expected him to reach out and muss her hair as he had done when she was a small child.

Blessedly he had not, but it was clear he would not initiate an informal reception with the young man, nor would he explain why her request was denied. It had not put her off, merely caused her to switch her efforts to her personal secretary, going through more formal channels to attain her goal. Annoyingly every effort she made had failed through the course of the year, and she had noticed that with every unsuccessful attempt her work load had increased. It was as though someone intended to keep her occupied and away from her cousin.

He had to be a cousin, of course, he was just so obviously a Peacecraft.

He was actually rather a good looking Peacecraft too, more striking than the other cousins she had occasion to mix with at the court in Sanc. On seeing him for the first time she had been struck by his obvious bloodline and the question had arisen then as to why he had not attended court. The Cousins, as she tended to think of them, normally made their first formal court presentation on their fourteenth birthdays and she had attended those occasions since her sixth year. She could not have missed his presentation, as he was only a few years her senior.

There were a number of rumours about him running through the ranks of the students attending Tsuberov, and she had made it her business, once it was clear she was expected to keep her distance from him, to learn those rumours. The whispers she had pursued only incited her curiosity to meet him. It was, after all, unthinkable to have a Peacecraft cousin reared outside of Sanc.

If, as rumour had it, it was true that he had grown up in an orphanage then she wanted answers as to why. It was well known to her that if a Cousin chanced to be orphaned they were immediately designated Wards of the King and assigned Guardians. It was the sworn duty of the assigned Guardian to oversee every need of the Cousin, from housing to the very best of education, and most importantly, the presentation of that child at the Court on their fourteenth birthday.

It was unacceptable for a cousin to be placed in an orphanage and, even if by chance one had been, they would not have been placed in an orphanage outside of the precincts of Sanc's borders. It was unthinkable to abandon one of the Cousin's in such a manner; Relena had been brought up to believe they were Family and not to be neglected or disrespected. Finding a Cousin at Tsuberov, one unknown to her and only slightly older, who clearly was not meant to associate with her… well, something was rotting in the dungeons of Sanc and Relena, being the curious girl that she was, intended to find the rotting corpse and gain some answers.

All she needed was for some people to cooperate with her, beginning with Zechs himself, which meant now she had to go through Duo Maxwell and Quatre Winner to get to him. Annoying but not insurmountable.

"Mr. Maxwell."

The blue eyes that centred on her widened, almost comically so, she thought. Relena smiled sweetly at the gathering of students with Duo and employed the patented by royalty prerogative to steal away from any gathering of people the one individual she required, with only a look. People tended to understand that look and gave ground graciously, not asking questions, which was quite handy in the long term. It was one of the better lessons she had mastered, and not nearly so disagreeable as most others.

No one, not even Duo Maxwell himself, would deny her this opportunity to investigate what was, to her, a personal mystery. All she had wanted to do was get to know a cousin, there was nothing wrong with that… was there? Of course not and Quatre might have whisked him away, but she was going upstairs and she was going to get some answers; and Otto be damned.

"Good evening to you all, I do hope you don't mind if I steal away Mr. Maxwell? Can we have a seat for a moment or two, Mr. Maxwell, while I have a word with you please?"

He must have been surprised, though he did not show it, executing a perfect half bow; just the right amount of formality given the circumstances and offered his arm, which Relena took with a smile, resting her small hand on his larger one. She had never spoken to him before, but one would have thought they were at least passing acquaintances as they made their way through the revellers.

She could not have hoped for better, noting the Masters near them smiling and nodding, turning back to their conversations and, she was not so happy to note, she had lost sight of Otto. That might be a problem if he had gone in pursuit of Quatre and her cousin, but first thing was first and hopefully she would catch sight of Otto still in the reception room. Duo led her toward the side of the gathering and to an area where they would have some measure of privacy, screened as it was by a strategically place pot plant on a plinth.

"Your Highness?"

Straight down to business too, she liked that. The look in his unusually coloured eyes was intense, a glimmer of violet shifting his blue eyes through shades of colour as he demanded to know what this was all about. He maintained the obviously casual air she wished him to project, herself being just as casual, smoothing down her dress and offering up slightly flirtatious smiles even as her eyes told him she was not flirting with him. The idea was not to attract attention.

"I have a message for you, from Quatre Winner."

"Quatre?"

He looked about the room, standing to enable him to peer further than his seated placement had permitted. She could see the frown starting when he failed to see any sign of his friend, and that expression would only attract attention if it was noted.

"He is no longer present, Mr. Maxwell, as he took Mr. Marquise back to your suite." A sharp look was directed at her and Relena smiled, trying to get him to relax a little, tapping the seat to suggest he be seated. "Try not to attract attention, please. Quatre really would prefer that only you and I arrive at your suite in the next few minutes."

"Eh?" Duo looked anything but pleased and the frown was definitely there. "What's going on?"

Oh, good question, she mused. The perfect question that never, however many times she asked it, seemed to get answered. Certainly there had been no answer that met with her satisfaction.

"That, Mr. Maxwell, is something I also wish to know. Might I call you Duo? I find all this formality a pain and it tends to inhibit plain speaking."

That appeared to surprise him, but he grinned after a moment and thankfully the frown disappeared as he flipped his braid over his shoulder. A pity that, her fingers, of their own accord of course, had been steadily twitching their way in it's general direction. Maybe later she would get to touch?

"Uh, yeah. Sure."

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Otto, Duo noted through a gap in the crowd, was stalking around the room while attempting to give the appearance of casually strolling, but Duo knew a stalk when he saw one. To him it was clear the Security Chief was looking for somebody, and every now and then he would look pointedly at the door to the main lobby. Given that he did not wish to attract the man's attention Duo sank back down to his seat and tried his best to blend into the wall. He was a little at a loss to explain why Quatre would send the Princess of Sanc, of all people, after him with a message.

"Is something wrong, Duo?"

Glancing at the Princess, Duo grinned and shook his head. It was a night for surprises it seemed. "No, nothing is wrong. I just… would prefer not to come to Otto's attention at the moment, that's all."

It was rather a shock when the Princess glanced quickly around and looked relieved when she failed to see the Security Chief. "Ah, well that makes two of us. You will take me up to your suite, won't you?"

Duo paled and then blushed a rosy hue, eyes wide in disbelief. "That's… not exactly allowed, Your Highness."

"My name is Relena, Duo, and I will thank you to use it. I assure you I am not out to jump your bones." She blushed as she realized the insinuation. "I need to talk with Quatre and specifically with Mr. Marquise."

Duo arched an eyebrow. "Zechs? You want to talk to Zechs? What do you need to have words with him for? He doesn't need any hassles this close to his graduation, you know. He has a shit lo.. Erm, sorry. He has a heap of work he needs to concentrate on just now, and he doesn't need any complications from… well… ahm…"

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Relena felt a darker blush ride her cheeks and frowned at Duo. Honestly, the male of the species could be so troubling at times, and this one in particular appeared to have his mind in the gutter.

"Duo Maxwell, I believe rumour is correct when it claims you let your mouth run away with you far too much. I am far from being intent on seducing anyone, nor am I intending to make trouble for any of you. I was talking to Mr. Marquise and Quatre snatched him away from me, taking him to his suite. Now I intend to finish my conversation with Zechs and either you tell me where your suite is, or alternately take me to it, which I would prefer, otherwise I will march out to the reception desk and have the details from the register. I will do so in a very public manner, which is certain to raise eyebrows and that will attract the attention of not only the Masters, but also Otto, and we do not wish that, do we? Of course not, so we will accomplish this feat quietly and unobtrusively. Not to mention immediately."

Not that she would carry through on her threat of course, but she would definitely acquire the suite number, if not in such a public fashion, but Duo did not know her and he well might think her forward and spoilt enough to do exactly as she said. From memory he was not an empath, so he would not read her intent as clearly as she could read his. It was rather gratifying to realize that she had quite startled him.

Duo gaped at her, looking remarkably like a fish out of water. "Has anyone ever told you, you can be quite bossy?"

"Oh, it comes with the territory of being a bona fide Princess." Relena offered him a sugary sweet smile, glancing around the room quickly as she stood to place certain people and liking what she saw. "Now, Otto appears to have been distracted by the Dean, so this should be a good opportunity to escape his watchful eye. Shall we go?"

"So Princess, what did you want with Zechs anyway?"

Relena flashed a smile dripping with sugar even as her blue eyes spat the promise of fire and brimstone at him. "Did I not request you call me by my name?"

"Excuse me." Duo inclined his head as she fitted her arm through his and they began to casually saunter through the crowd so intent on socializing following their meal. "I don't chat with Princesses every day, so I'm a bit down on the rules."

"That is quite alright, just don't do it again or I will have to have you whipped and cast into the dungeons for a week on a diet of bread and water." She flashed him a genuine smile and inclined her head to a Master in passing.

Be casual, look the part of who and what you are and, while she crossed the floor, forget she intended to skip out on the reception. Her mother would be horrified if she knew what she was about to do. Well bred young ladies did not go to the hotel suites of not one, but three rather good looking young men.

Duo snorted, amused and decided he could get to like the young woman. They shared wicked grins, side stepping some laughing older women who were flirting outrageously with some of the Tsuberov students.

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He was in trouble and he knew it.

The moment he realized the Princess had cornered the young man Otto knew he would not be able to get to her and distract her before she spoke to Marquise. Just how much damage could be done before he might contain the situation he had no idea, but he needed to keep those two apart.

He would have charged across the length of the room to separate them, but the social niceties slowed him down and the last thing he needed to do was cause a scene. He watched with growing concern as the Princess smiled in a relaxed and winning manner; Relena had perfected that early on, it came naturally to her. She must have intended to charm Marquise, something he was sure she was quite capable of doing, however, whatever she said appeared to have the opposite effect.

Marquise went as white as his hair and then colour returned to his face in a rising tide that quite frankly worried Otto.

Upon arriving at Tsuberov it had not taken long for them to realize that Marquise was susceptible to what were politely referred to as 'panic attacks' by his councillors. The incidents had come with less frequency as Zechs had settled into the establishment, but they had not ceased entirely until Duo Maxwell had become friendly with him. Those instances had been marked by a notable loss of colour followed by a heavy flush and intense headache, usually visible in the manner in which Marquise would try to avoid bright light and noise… all of which was abundant in the reception room.

What Otto witnessed, the lack of colour followed by the heavy flush, the narrowed eyes and the way a hand rose to shield his eyes, brought those past attacks to mind. His reaction had been to cross the room as quickly as he could without causing a scene Zechs did not need to further distress him, but he had paused when Quatre Winner had materialized from the crowd and took charge of the scene.

Otto hesitated and as he watched Winner speak to the Princess, who looked to be more than a little put out by whatever Winner said to her and, being Relena, had to argue the point. Otto could have groaned, but Winner responded and then focused on Marquise, resting a hand lightly on his face; an act which appeared to calm the telepathic empath. Sometimes a touch was needed, though the general rule was not to casually touch a high talent empath or telepath; but Winner knew the rules as well as Otto and undoubtedly knew that, in certain situations, a touch was needed to ground a psychic in distress.

Winner's hand on Marquise's face appeared to calm the blonde down, giving him a reference point, an anchor, though he still looked to be far from steady. Quatre exchanged words with the Princess, shaking his head at one point, nodding slightly at another, motioning with his head toward the door. A few seconds more and Winner had Marquise on his feet and the Princess was moving to mingle with the crowd, drawing heads to her, something she was extremely efficient at. Winner was moving toward the entrance to the Lobby, clearly hoping to get Marquise out of the room and, Otto guessed, to their suite.

All very quietly and efficiently handled, Otto decided, but what had transpired to set Marquise off in the first place? Something the Princess had said, he had no doubt of that, and he needed to determine how much damage control he would be required to initiate. He would need to determine if he would be required to transport Marquise to the laboratories and the infirmary there, but the Princess was closer and he would ask her some pointed questions. If Winner was unable to handle his friend, Otto knew he was sensible enough to raise the alarm before Marquise got out of hand.

Relena was working the room well, her parents would have been proud of her. He had seen the Peacecrafts perform in a crowd countless times before, and he knew she was moving through the gathering with a purpose. There was nothing random about her direction, he recognized her stance as being anything but casual, but who she might be targeting… He hesitated, glancing toward the doorway, but Winner had successfully whisked Marquise off.

To say her target surprised him was an understatement. Duo Maxwell? She moved in on the group of students gracefully, interrupted their conversation, smiling, and in seconds smoothly extricated Maxwell from the group. Otto hesitated a moment longer, unsure he liked that combination, his instincts warring over watching the unlikely couple and going to offer what assistance he could to Marquise. Glancing toward the door he took a few steps, absently chewing on his lower lip and looked back to the odd couple of the century… only to find they had vanished.

//Damn. Where the hell did they go?//

Alarm bells ringing in his mind he surveyed the reception room. He had not lost sight of the doors to the foyer, so they certainly had not left via that route, but perhaps the balcony? Why was he worrying about this anyway, he should be attending to Marquise if he could not immediately question the girl…

Careful to keep the main entrance in sight he slipped through the little clusters of people, nodding here and there, exchanging a quiet greeting but always moving, never pausing to get caught in a conversation. He really needed to know what had been said, and determine how much damage it could do to carefully laid plans. He caught a glimpse of the Princesses rose coloured gown against the far wall and paused; a waitress moved to one side and beyond the chatting individuals he caught a glimpse of the pair, heads close together, Maxwell looking more than a little surprised.

It took a great deal to surprise that enterprising young man and Otto hissed softly, threading his way through the groupings with care. There was trouble if ever he saw it and he wished so many people were not about. Why did they not head to the dance floor and get out of his way?

"Otto."

Damn, he did not have the time for social niceties with the Dean. "Excuse me, sir. I am needed elsewhere."

"And you are heading in the wrong direction." The man caught his arm, halting him effectively though the words were enough to stop him. "I saw Marquise and the Princess together and he looked like he was about to faint… or have one of those damnable attacks of his. I thought he was over them? I need you to find him and ascertain his condition. Get him to the infirmary so he can be treated."

"A work already in progress… damn. Now where did they go?" He peered over the Dean's head, looking for the Princesses distinctive gown, or the trademark chestnut hair.

"Who?"

"Princess Relena sought out Duo Maxwell, of all people, after Winner escorted Marquise out."

The Dean paled, looking concerned, peering into the crowd. "That is not a combination that bodes well."

An understatement, Otto mused, but one he could not afford to consider at the moment. Relena had no cause to speak with Maxwell, although he supposed it might have been to pass on a message from Winner, though Winner was more than capable of sending a telepathic message to Maxwell, they were in close enough proximity for limited range contact to be initiated. No, something was cooking in the kitchen and he wanted to find out what.

"I suggest, sir, that you endeavour to keep people distracted and the evening moving along quietly. It would be best not to attract any further attention. I will attend to the matter."

"I will trust you to handle this as discretely as possible."

He wished the Dean could release him to be forthcoming with Marquise and the Princess, but that was not the case. His hands were tied, as were Hargraves, but at least the man had acknowledged the facts, and let it be known he would back him if they could no longer contain matters as they had stood. He would need to call in and report this disaster, but first he needed to ascertain just how much damage had been done; if it was indeed irreversible.

"How is it the Princess was on the guest list for this evening? I was under the impression she was to dine here last evening, when Zechs was safely at the laboratories."

Hargraves scowled, inclining his head in acknowledgement of the gaff. None of this would have happened if the Princess had not attended the function.

"That I shall endeavour to discover as she was in attendance yesterday. See what you can do to contain matters."

Knowing the Peacecraft family as he did, Otto could well imagine it had been Relena's intention to front the young man the previous night. When he had not appeared at the dinner and following social gathering, she undoubtedly had determined to ensure she would have a second chance. They were a determined and outright stubborn breed, the Peacecrafts, and once their minds had been set to a course they were unmoveable. He had been hard pressed to keep the Princess occupied and away from Marquise, as per his instructions. Stubborn did not adequately describe the bloodline sufficiently in his view.

When he looked again at the Princess he swore under his breath as she and Maxwell were conspicuous by their absence. All he could do was hope they were heading for the suite the three young men shared… and wouldn't that cause a scandal if she was found there!

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Quatre was a relatively low level telepath, and even with training his telepathy would never exceed mid level range. His empathy, however, was of sufficient sensitivity and strength that he was already assured of a Prime's rating on completion of his training at Tsuberov. He had been shielding himself quite successfully from the presence of the guests at the restaurant and the reception room and, to be honest, he had actually been enjoying the social chit chat.

He was well aware that neither Duo nor Zechs would ever feel comfortable in such company, at least not while they were so hyperaware of their class distinctions. He was sure though, that once Zechs was out in the work force as a fully documented and licensed Prime talent, that he would soon enough become accustomed to such occasions and accept, and relax, in the formality of the evenings. Getting his friends into a decently tailored suit each would also help. Looking and feeling good would boost their confidence in themselves, and he was looking forward to the surprise of his contemporaries when those two debuted in truly decently tailored suits. There was a huge different between adequate tailoring and exceptionally tailored suits in Quatre's vaunted opinion.

He had thoroughly enjoyed the perfectly cooked and presented meal and was warming up to the after dinner socializing with other guests of the hotel; 'doing his bit' to promote Tsuberov, Duo termed it. It had been a little uncomfortable when he had experienced a sharp spike of satisfaction and anticipation in his immediate vicinity. Not thinking much of it, he was after all, quite satisfied himself and anticipating an entertaining evening, he never-the-less had turned his attention to tracing the emotion to its source.

He had been somewhat surprised to discover the spike originated from the Princess of Sanc, and that her attention was focused on someone on the far side of the room. The young woman had slipped into the crowd heading for the dance floor, sliding between the couples as though they were not there, her attention focused beyond them and to one side of the dancing area.

Well, the Princess of Sanc finding herself a male interest and being determined to dance with him was none of his concern. He wished her well, only too aware of the restrictions she lived under, having to face something of the same himself. It was possible, if there was no one appropriate to introduce her to him, that she had spotted him, who ever it might be, in the company of someone she knew, which would allow her to be formally introduced. Being the Crown Princess had drawbacks and meeting young men was one of them.

It was more than possible the young woman had found herself a male interest and was intent on introducing herself if she could not get someone to introduce them, as was proper given her station in life. There would really be no one on the guest list who could be considered inappropriate company for the Princess, so really there was no need for concern and he had turned back to his conversation with a small smile.

It had come as a totally unpleasant shock to feel a sharp spear of panic, confusion, disbelief, a desire to run flood his shields. He knew the flavour of the impressions, it was unmistakable, and the empathic discharge was thankfully on a high band which few psi's would be able to read.

Zechs?

He would know that psychic touch anywhere, and the initial spike had dimmed to settle into a cloud of confusion, before that too faded to be almost unnoticeable. Zechs had shielded his mind, containing his emotions, but Quatre was second only to Zechs in empathic talent in the hotel, and he had caught the rising tide of chaotic thought and impressions in his friend.

It had been enough to see him offer a hasty, but impeccably polite, excuse and break away from the conversation, eeling his way through the guests toward the dance floor. Somewhere here… somewhere… near… He broke through the dancers, pausing on the far edge of the dance floor to sweep the room with a penetrating scan, employing his empathy to guide him and find the pair seated partially shielded by a grand floral arrangement.

Of course they had to be that far away from him, and in this situation he could only think of Zechs as a ticking bomb.

While he had had the good fortune to have never witnessed an attack, he had heard from a number of sources that Zechs had been prone to fits of what they termed panic attacks. From what he knew of the incidents they were not actual panic episodes, but something else entirely. He had heard one Professor suggest they might potentially be caused by a feedback loop stemming from the high level of his empathic and telepathic abilities. That was far from what Quatre knew to be a panic attack, but what he did know was that it was not a good idea for such an incident to occur in the middle of one of the city's foremost hotels.

He could only hope that he did not affront anyone with the speed with which he crossed the distance between himself and the object of his attention; not that he particularly cared. All that was of concern was getting to Marquise and then assisting him to a more suitable location to deal with whatever it was that was distressing him. If anyone noticed it would be a foregone conclusion that Zechs would not be graduating from Tsuberov this year. They would hold him over and spend another year working on controls to attempt to ensure another episode did not occur.

And rightfully so too, he admitted. The staff at Tsuberov would be irresponsible if they released Zechs and permitted him to enter the outside world, the real world, with all of its stresses and strains, and they failed to have him adequately protected. If there was one thing Tsuberov was not, it was irresponsible. The Masters and Professors took their role as educators and trainers very seriously indeed, which was why Quatre was at Tsuberov and not on L4 undergoing private tuition and training.

The last few steps to reach his friend had seemed to take forever, but finally he was there, using his body as a shield; a physical barrier to offer some sense of protection and security. The Princess had looked plainly confused and alarmed, genuinely concerned and totally unaware of what had produced this reaction in Zechs.

Relena was, as Quatre recalled, phenomenally stubborn and she had refused to be put off easily.

It had been made abundantly clear that he was not preferred company. Her initial reaction clearly suggested he take himself off elsewhere, preferably off the edge of a cliff. And Relena was generally such a polite young lady too. Stubborn she might have been, and innocent to the ways of the high level empath, but she was also sensible and had not fought him for long.

She had worked the bystanders attention away from them masterfully, as befitted her training; he had not doubted she could manage it. Marquise was shaking under his hands and his colour was bad to say the least. Through the medium of his empathy, magnified by physical touch, he could feel how Zechs was struggling to regain control.

There was no danger of his Prime level talents running wild and taking down the bystanders; the shields Zechs had worked so hard at developing were too strong for that. They were like diamonds under the pressure of Quatre's scan, solid and immovable. No, the danger here lay in Zechs doing himself a mischief, or being marked as socially unacceptable in this elitist circle.

He paused near the doorway, tilting his friend's head up to study his face and found himself looking into huge crystal blue eyes. The eyes pleaded with him, rolling toward the room they were just leaving and he felt the surge of desire. Zechs wanted to talk to the Princess as much, if not more, as Relena had insisted on talking to him!

What had they been discussing? Whatever it was it would have to wait; Quatre was not of a mind to delay removing themselves from the public eye. Zechs would have a few minutes to gain control of himself and then he could talk to Relena. Quatre had no doubt the girl would brow beat Duo into bringing her up to the suite, and wouldn't that cause a scandal if she was caught in their rooms!

Under his hands he could feel Zechs shaking with his effort to control the feedback, and it was a feedback loop, Quatre realized; physical touch giving him greater sensitivity. Something had taken Zechs by surprise and triggered a reaction in Zechs that looped back on itself, feeding the uncertainty/confusion/fear in a never ending cycle that compounded the problem. Until he could help Zechs establish a break point they would need to be away from everyone.

"Quatre?"

"It's alright. We don't want to draw the Master's attention, do we? Best they know nothing untoward is happening." He could only hope they had managed to escape the attention of the Masters; or nothing short of divine intervention would save Zechs from repeating the year at Tsuberov.

"The Princess…?"

"When we get back to the room, Zechs." He spared a few seconds for a quick look around and did not like what he saw. "Oh damn, Otto is watching us."

Walking more quickly now, feeling the effort Zechs was making not to lean on him too heavily, too obviously, and they were out of the reception room and crossing the lobby, heading for the elevators. It would be only a few minutes until they could make the safety of the shielded suite and then it would be easier.

"I'll help you however I can, just let me get you up to the suite."

"I need answers, Quatre," the faintest of whispers and long fingers pressed to his temple, a hiss of breath marking the raging headache Zechs was suffering.

"You are not the only one wanting answers, Zechs."

As the elevator doors closed before him, just before the diminishing gap closed completely, Quatre looked up into the intense blue eyes of the man who entered the lobby.

"Oh shit. The Prime."

t.b.c.

Karina Robertson 2009

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Notes

Zechs Marquise: Psi Student 5th year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Level 10 Receiving/Projecting Empath [approaching Prime Designation] + Level 9 Sending /Receiving Telepath, Projected L10 function. Finder function suspected, not officially registered. Country of origin, Luxemburg. [20 years of age]

Relena Peacecraft: Sanc. Level 5 Telepathic Send function / Suggestor element Level 6, Receive function Level 3. Projected level Telepathic Send, Level 7, Suggestor Level 8, Receive function Level 5. Initial training Sanc, New Port City. Tsuberov student. First year present, second year study roster. [Age: 17 years]

Quatre Rababer Winner: Psi student, 2nd year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Current Level 5 Telepath, projected Level 7, Current Level Receiving Empath 9.3, projected Level 10, Prime. Current Sending Empath Level 2, projected Level 4. Colony of Origin, L4 Cluster [18 years of age]

Duo Maxwell: Psi Student , 3rd year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Level 8 Psychokinetic ability, projected level 9. Sending Telepath Level 5. Colony of Origin L2 Cluster [ 18 years of age] Sweeper adoptee. Under pre contract agreement with Sweepers.

Heinrich Otto: Tsuberov University Security Chief. No Psionic talent. Staff Member at Tsuberov for five years. Fitted with a Neural shield implant against telepathic intrusion. Former employment, Sanc Imperial Guard. [35 years of age].

Dean Alexander Hargraves: Dean at Tsuberov University and Parapsychic Institute. Neural Implant. Sending / Receiving Telepath Level 3


	33. Chapter 33

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 33/??

Author: Karina

Pairings 13x6 [eventual], 5xS [established], 3x4, Others undecided at this time.

Many thanks to the wonderful ShenLong Deb for betaing this chapter for me.

//…// Thoughts

The Agency: Meeting of Souls

Chapter 33

Everything around him looked so normal, so innocent, defying the alarm running through body and mind.

Treize stepped to the side, firmly planting his back against the broad protection of an old oak tree. Instinct screamed at him to protect himself physically, warning of his proximity to life threatening danger. The crawling sensation running up his spine was enough to set him to fortifying his shields against any potential mental intrusion as he flattened his back against the comforting solidity of the oak's trunk.

The itch crawling along his nerves had nothing to do with an itch a simple scratch could cure, and everything to do with an instinctive adrenaline surge spiking in reaction to sensed danger. Treize was no clairvoyant talent, but he knew when to follow his instincts; said instincts had not yet let him down.

Somewhere in his vicinity, within the park's boundaries or very near to the park, was the source of that signature talent. The mental flavour was unmistakable once it had been isolated, and Treize would know it anywhere. If he could, here and now, pin point the man's location and trace the touch to a single individual... Knowing the enemy would be a huge advantage in this investigation.

It was dark, the sun having set long ago and most people were heading home, the park beginning to empty. The low life of humanity that haunted every city with the coming of night had not yet come out to mark the world with their personal attitude and he had a chance of catching the killer before he could strike again in this transition between the two faces of the city. If he could separate that signature consciousness from the innocents in the park and its surrounds, before the killer could move on, then they could resolve the matter at Tsuberov with commendable speed.

This could be the perfect time and place for such a thing to be resolved, namely well away from the students of Tsuberov… if his target would cooperate, of course.

Resting his head back against the rough bark of the tree he narrowed his eyes, not daring to close them in his current circumstance. His assigned bodyguard was close, he could sense them without any difficulty, but he was not inclined to open himself to physical retaliation, and he was as disinclined to have his guard injured as he was to suffer injury himself. In the space of three measured breaths he took himself to working level and granted himself a moment to settle his perceptions.

He could not afford to let this opportunity lapse. These were hardly ideal working conditions, but one had to take what one was presented with and do the best one could. If he did not act with all speed they would miss the opportunity and who knew what could result from that? People could die, at the least suffer injury, if he let this chance slip away. If he thought the killer was too unstable to bring down here and now, then the least he could do would be to set a trace in place.

He was not out to endanger the good citizens of the city by 'jumping' a mentally disturbed, high talent Psi. It would be far better for all parties concerned, and infinitely more responsible of him, to set the trace and wait, following that contact until they had their target away from the metropolis to a more isolated and manageable location.

He could set a discrete trace easily enough, and he should have more than a light enough touch to do so and keep his target unaware of his presence. Discretion was called for with so many people around them. The last thing they needed was to initiate a psychic duel that could all too easily spill over to bystanders with potentially fatal results. He was confident the killer would lose what little control he had very quickly should he be pushed.

The paperwork would be horrendous.

Cautiously Treize extended the lightest of touches, sweeping across the minds of those individuals he detected in his immediate vicinity. He was not interested in reading their thoughts, merely lightly touching their minds and determining their individual psychic 'flavours'. No one should know of his psychic presence, and if they 'felt' him they would have to be psychic themselves; and a high level talent to boot. Considering who his target was, namely a stalker and murderer who killed using psi talent, he was careful to maintain the lightest of touches possible to negate the chances of being detected.

The sweep extended further, a gradually circling arc about him, extending wider and further as the seconds passed in search of that unmistakable mind. Fleeting as the contact had been he had recognized the individual mind, though now he could not detect a trace of its presence. The killer was shielding, he decided, but his blood and bones screamed at him that he was in a dangerous situation and that danger was immediate and nearby.

This man who eluded him had murdered once already, his victim a man whose reasons for being in that particular suite was as unknown as his killer's reasons for being there. More so, actually, given Treize was sure the killer was stalking one of the three students with amorous intent. If that presumption was correct and he was infatuated with one of the three, then might it be possible the victim had said or done something which his killer had considered enough to mark him as a threat?

The first kill had been quick and clean, and that was dangerous for the investigators. The murderer could get a taste for killing when it left no evidence in its wake; no clues for the authorities to hunt down. Psi crime was a rising problem the law enforcement agencies of the world were beginning to realize required specialist teams to investigate. For the moment the Agency was largely filling that role, but slowly the police of various countries were acquiring teams of psi's incorporated into their more mundane investigative units. It was a growing fact of life, the influence of psychics in the world, and slowly the basic structure of civilization was changing to cater to the flow on results of psi influence.

He was not here.

Treize opened his eyes and stared balefully at the lake. Most annoying. Either he had incredible shields which were impervious to detection, an impossibility in Treize's opinion, or the man was no longer in the immediate vicinity of the park. Impossible as he considered it he could not dismiss the possibility, which meant anyone in his immediate vicinity could be the target and, therefore, had to be treated accordingly.

It might be anyone. Any one of the five young men jogging together along the foreshore of the lake, the older man tossing a ball for his dog, or perhaps the man collecting the sail boat model from the lake. It could be the teenager wearing headphones with his head stuck in a book under the street light, or any one of seven young men he sensed sharing lovers whispers with their partners… or the lucky gay couple making out under the bridge where they thought they had privacy.

It could be any one of them.

What to do?

He took the time to carefully survey his surroundings and a slow smile curved his lips. Perfect. Just the perfect solution he needed, though certain people would certainly not bless him when they were assigned to the task. Glancing at his watch he noted the time and considered how long would be best to allow for the task at hand.

The park was covered with dozens of CCTV cameras covering every entrance to the park and most of the footpaths and lawns. If the Agency pulled the recordings for the park for the last hour and assigned a team to the task of identification, then it could work very much in their favour. If they could identify every male between the ages of sixteen and sixty, perhaps seventy, then they would be able to narrow down the search for the killer from the five odd million males occupying the city to at best a few hundred individuals.

It was hardly an ideal solution, of course, but given the circumstances it was the best they had; and that was more than they had had a few minutes ago. Time heavy and manpower intensive, but this was a murder investigation with high profile individuals involved. Their list of suspects could be narrowed down considerably by cross referencing those faces with everyone who had access to Tsuberov's grounds.

Treize relaxed back against the tree once again and extended a light touch. Just one final check to ensure he was not mistaken and he had indeed lost the killer by arriving just those few minutes too late to positively identify him. He turned his attention to studying the memory of that fleeting contact, seeking some clue within it to help identify the individual.

There had been an element of pain underlying the fleeting contact; no doubt that sourced from the mental dummy spit in the dorm suite. Quite a spectacular tantrum and clear warning of how unstable the individual was at the present time. Treize wanted him restrained as quickly as possible and he was afraid Gabriella might not be too happy with how he suspected the result of this investigation would conclude.

The old Prime would want to handle the killer with kid gloves and, while Treize agreed he needed to be handled carefully, he was already of the opinion the man was beyond help. Gabriella would want to save him, to heal him and determine the extent of his abilities, making him a useful part of society; under her wing, of course. If the killer could not be contained, and his instability controlled; his talent harnessed then…

No, Gabriella would not be pleased, but the simple truth was they could not afford to have an insane Prime level psychic running amuck.

The degree of psychic discomfort he detected in that brief contact was more than a trifle disturbing, Treize mused. Following the tantrum, with the kind of damage that had been done, and having scanned the room for the residue after the incident, Treize would have expected the perpetrator to have gone to ground for upwards of two weeks, perhaps longer. That kind of discharge of mental energy was not something anyone should be able to throw off in a night or two.

The discharge of energy should have totally incapacitated the user, yet Treize had touched his mind in the park only days after the incident. Even in a best case scenario the man should not be out and about in so few days, his mind should be more than simply tender for weeks. Treize was of the opinion he doubted the killer was stable enough to know to rest and keep a low profile while in a delicate condition, and it raised an unpleasant possibility.

He was certain this powerful developing psychic was both untrained and ungoverned. There was no suggestion of a trained discipline in the mind he had touched. This was a feral child, someone whose burgeoning talent developed without guidance and discipline, and who was governed by his volatile emotions.

Dangerous to everyone about him.

What was equally worrying was why he was capable of moving around merely days after the incident. Either the killer had an incredible tolerance for pain, or the man had to be taking chemical aids to subdue the effects of the tantrum. Or he had developed some type of healing ability.

//Stop turning the bastard into a super psi!// Treize admonished himself. //That's the last thing you need, you idiot. Healing on top of everything else? I sincerely hope not!//

He had already shown more psi potential than anyone else Treize had come into contact with, who had not studied for years to train and refine their talent. They did not need a super psi with killer tendencies running loose in society. In this kind of situation Treize was heartbreakingly aware that the man, whoever he was, would undoubtedly kill again.

Whether he intended to or not.

It was apparent the man had no formal training in the use of talent, or in anything remotely resembling self discipline. Too often Treize had come across people who had little in the way of self restraint and this person was becoming more unstable by the day, psychologically, and the burgeoning psi ability was not improving matters.

If the psychic talent manifesting itself was chemically generated through the use of banned substances, then the likelihood of there being no training at all backing his talent was multiplied a hundred fold; and the danger likewise. It was frightening, and Treize knew enough to admit he was afraid.

The killer was a walking time bomb.

Already mentally unstable if he began to feel inadequate, or suspected his identity might be known at any time… the danger of him losing whatever control he had was immense. He could explode into a maelstrom of kinetic force capable of wreaking as much, if not more, damage to buildings and people in his vicinity as he had already demonstrated. Thinking his freedom and/or his life might be threatened, the killer might well have the potential to step up a grade in his already formidable talent and inflict even more damage.

And if all of that kinetic potential was not frightening enough, there was the even more volatile potential of his empathic and telepathic talents running wild. If he lost himself and struck back in fear and anger he could potentially take out entire city blocks of citizens. The authorities would be left to clean up the mess; dead and injured people and sections of the city resembling the catastrophic damage of a particularly disastrous earthquake.

That, of course, was the worst case scenario; the loss of all control, little as that was if Treize's suspicion was true. It would be like a Prime T/E talent on overdrive, perhaps worse given the man had unknown, artificially induced abilities. Some few citizens might be saved, but most would have their minds burned out by psi run rampant, and those who survived immediate and painful death would sustain physical damage to their brains, the bulk of which could never be treated.

Quite frankly, the potential for disaster in this case frightened Treize on levels he had never entertained fear on before. He had barely scratched the surface of his target's potential and having touched the residue of emotions in the dormitory suite, he knew more than anyone what the killer was capable of. Tell them as he might, he could never be certain anyone else would understand the severity of the threat walking amongst them.

Some things you had to see, experience, for yourself before you could believe.

//We will probably need to kill him. If he cracks…//

God, he could hear Gabriella now. She would want to do everything they were capable of to bring him to heel and repair the damage the chemicals had inflicted on him physically. If, after that, he was found to be still psi active then she would wish him trained to the exacting standards she demanded of her protégé's.

//I feel sorry for him already.//

But it might not get that far. In fact it was likely to get no further than perhaps sixty seconds after a face to face confrontation began. Given his mental instability Treize expected there would be very little talking. Yes, it was far better, if the opportunity presented itself, to take him down from a distance using tranquilizers; then and only then in his opinion, Gabriella might have her chance to effect healing and reform.

Just how did you begin to tame a talent such as that? Purely artificially induced psi talent. No training. No control to speak of. Anything could trigger a fight with such an individual.

//There would be no choice but to take him down from a distance, and not with tranquilizers. Gabriella would not like that.//

Sometimes one simply had to admit what one wanted in life was not possible and Gabriella, if nothing else, was a realist when it came to the crunch. If it came to a confrontation where all was lost then she would probably take the man down herself, if she chanced to be in the vicinity when their options ran out. Treize would endeavour to ensure that did not eventuate. He wanted the old Prime safely clear of trouble.

The greatest problem with that, of course, was Gabriella and her independent streak. She would not willingly make herself scarce.

They knew too little of the drugs currently circulating on the black market to enhance a person's psychic potential. The drugs used to enhance the killer in this case, would be sure to be black market chemicals. Cocktails of volatile genetic enhancement drugs banned for unacceptable side effects, both on the physical body and a man's mind, circulated in select quarters available to anyone who had the financing to step in to the elite market. The market in such banned and controversial chemicals was thriving, despite the best efforts of the law enforcement agencies.

Their target had to have access to a fair sized credit balance to afford the drugs in the first place.

There were so many questions yet to be answered about this case and the drugs was only one aspect of the entire puzzle.

Where did he get his supply of the enhancement drugs? Were the drugs being used required to be taken as a one off, or a limited but set dosage over a course of treatment? Perhaps the regular use of psi required a regular dosage be taken to maintain the level of psi talent it induced? If the drugs being used should be discontinued would the user lose the psi talent and, if so, how long might it take for his abilities to diminish to non lethal levels? If not, if the user was forever after psi active, then would his psi potential at the least be reduced and, if so, by how much?

Too many questions, the answers to which could affect how they handled the individual.

Was that their best hope? By taking the drugs away, by cutting off his supply, might they limit him and contain him to the point where his talent, should it still exist, could be controlled, trained and developed safely for the good of all? Was it already too late for that?

Treize was the only one who had had any form of direct contact with the killer and in his opinion they were not going to be able to handle the man. Though Gabriella had 'looked' at that contact by linking with him, she had not had the benefit of his first hand reactions to the psi impressions he'd encountered. He was afraid and very much against trying to salvage the killer and Gabriella, in her grey haired wisdom, was all for saving the man. She had privately informed Treize he was too young to accurately judge the man and she thought there was hope.

Was it too late? Was he or Gabriella right?

Was he over thinking the dangers? Possibly. Was Gabriella too focused on salvaging the man and proving to someone, herself or others in high places Treize did not want to know about, that even those who used artificial means to stimulate their potential could be of use to society?

Well, that was a good question and one he was not prepared to answer in public as yet.

//However… I think it is too late. She might not want to hear it, but I honestly do think it is too late to save him. But it is not just this one man that we need concern ourselves with. It is not just him who is our problem. How many other people are there out there who might be users? Is it too late to save all of them? Is this a new chemical cocktail with its own unique characteristics, or do we know something of the chemicals they are using? Without a sample there is no way we can point the finger at a single specific chemical, or at a combination of chemicals. This illegal drug trade in psi stimulants has to be stamped out.//

And he was wasting time. He should have issued his instructions and be on his way to his apartment and a decent meal, then a session of exploring just what Marquise had done to his shields and expanding on it. The younger man had quite a way with shields; and might it be possible for him to be of help to them in containing the killer?

Treize shied away from that thought. For all he knew Marquise might be the target of the killer's obsession. No, for purely selfish reasons he wanted that particular young man safely out of harms way. Dynamic shields or not, Marquise did not belong with them while hunting a killer. Eventually, if he should be contracted to the Agency, and only after a period of extensive training, would he be up to facing a killer down.

//Never having the need would be better.//

There were so many more pleasant things Marquise could be doing than playing hunt the murderer and forcing him, or her, into a box. Treize could think of a number of quite entertaining scenarios… and he dragged his mind out of the gutter quickly.

//Work, not play, old son.//

Someone had to do something significant to stamp out the illegal trade in psychic performance enhancing drugs. Whilst he knew the matter was under investigation, and there was a growing cooperation between Psi's and the law enforcement agencies of the world, it was no easy thing for any of them to police. Statistics suggested the trade was actually increasing, despite the best efforts of the investigative team to track down the networks spreading them.

What did it take to make the breakthrough that would significantly reduce the trade in illicit drugs? Not a bad question and one he would undoubtedly puzzle over as time moved on. He was in law enforcement, after all, though of a private nature, and he had worked with drugs teams in the past.

Perhaps the apprehension of the killer he was hunting would be enough to open the doorway to reducing, if not shutting down the trade entirely?

The chemicals used in producing psi stimulants were supposed to be strictly controlled substances but every system, he supposed, had its flaws. Incorrect use of the stimulants was a recipe for disaster. Non psi's, particularly teenagers and young adults, wanted to stimulate the Psi cortex and awaken any dormant talents they might possess. It was seen as the 'in' thing, to be an accredited psychic.

It was 'fashionable'.

Where once substances such as heroin, cannabis and assorted hallucinatory drugs were all the rage, now it was the psi stimulants which were being abused; maiming and killing the young who craved to be accepted.

The human brain and body could only take so much chemical stimulation and the psi inducer drugs that he knew of were far from safe in the context of their use. Only a select few medical personnel in the ESUN were licensed to handle the chemicals in a medical capacity. There were a growing number of bodies on slabs in morgues around the world because of the incorrect use and abuse of such drugs.

The result of overuse, incorrect application or prolonged use of the stimulants was not pretty.

From what he had overheard it was not an easy death.

//Yuy's people are handling the increase in psi stimulant drug trafficking, but they do not seem to be having a great deal of success.//

Not that it was their fault, he mused. The criminal elements running the underworld stretching throughout the ESUN had been quick to see the potential for using psi abilities to protect themselves and their organizations. Treize often found himself wondering how many trained psi's were not government registered and were active in the world, working for the less than reputable of the ESUN's citizenry. The cartels, both on Earth and within the colonies seedier sides, were always on the look out for viable unregistered talents who could be trained to be of use.

Running the same thoughts around in his mind, turning them over again and again in the hope some new inspiration would strike, was not getting him home, fed or comfortable. With a succession of staged and timed breaths he brought himself up from working mode and he extended a tendril of thought to his chief bodyguard reporting exactly what had caused their delay.

Unwilling to use psi with the possibility of the killer still being in the vicinity, he summoned the man to him, his eyes never faltering in his systematic search of the park and its occupants. The killer had been seeking something… or someone. Who or what it was Treize would likely never know, but for now he could only do what he could, and that was to narrow down the identity of the murderer.

With luck, and a good team, they should have a list of names within 24 hours. The time would vary, but with the high profile of the persons involved in the case and Tsuberov itself, he was sure to get that assigned team's complete attention. With the assistance of the computer data bases networked throughout the ESUN, an impossible search a few years ago would now be quite possible.

"Sir?"

"Call in on a secure line and have the CCTV footage of this park, particularly all access points and the sidewalks flanking it confiscated. I want a team working through the night to put a name to every male face, and then I want those people screened for any ties to Tsuberov. Our murderer was, or is, in the park."

A soft whistled breath responded and he knew his desire for discretion was understood.

"Can you pinpoint any specific area, sir? I'll have a forensic unit pulled in to investigate the park on the off chance something might be of use in identifying the killer."

"No. The contact was brief and whoever he is he has very good natural shields… either that or he was leaving as I was arriving."

"I'll have them do what they can at the entrances, then. Other instructions, sir?"

"None. I'm heading home for now. See that Commander Une is informed of my request for a surveillance team, I'll not have her getting tetchy about lack of regard for appropriate protocols."

The man grinned well aware, as most people working for the Agency were, of the tensions that existed between the Prime and the Operations Officer. The tension had led to interesting gossip in the past and no doubt there would be more gossip in the future. It was never dull working for the Agency.

Treize, one final time, set a light scan sweeping across the minds of those in his immediate vicinity, but he failed to detect any trace of his target. Not that he had expected too, but one had to try. It was his job, after all. The night had produced a return on the case, what would be a definitive advancement, and hopefully the next day would bring a winnowing down of the millions of potential suspects to a thousand or so, perhaps as little as a few hundred.

The forensic unit would take samples as the park emptied out and would walk through the few remaining individuals with a hand scanner designed to pick up psi potential. The hope that they would find anything was small, but it had to be tried. His walk before dinner, after all, had already produced one surprise from which he expected a great deal of progress to be made.

His gaze slowly tracked across the visible aspects of the park. Who was he? Was he still here? He might be that college student walking the bull terrier, perhaps the little old man walking arm in arm with his wife and generating a glowing warmth of love for her that warmed Treize deep within.

No, not him. He was too open, too focused on the lady at his side looking up at him with her adoration shining in her face.

What he stood witness to, was that same deep and abiding love that he ached to find for himself.

One day, surely, but that was not what he should be thinking of. He should not be jealous of the old man and his lady, or of the young couple kissing over by the fountain, who would most likely not settle for each other but move on to other potential partners. Time would take care of that need; he had to have faith in that, particularly as he had set eyes on the one he thought had more than just a little potential to be that warmth to him.

"Sir? I have reported in and been assured Commander Une will be notified and, as per your instructions, two teams are being prepared. The forensics unit should arrive within the next twenty minutes and an agent has been dispatched to see about the CCTV footage."

"Well enough."

Time to go and business had to come before pleasure in this instance, particularly as his interest was involved in the murder inquiry. Someone in that dorm suite was the killer's obsession and no matter which of the three students it was, Treize was determined none of them need endure such attention.

"Walk out with me and then you can do your fade into the shadows routine." He grinned at the man's snicker and pushed himself away from the tree trunk. "I admit to being hungry and I think we can forego the rest of my constitutional."

The evening was fast progressing and he had promised Sally he would eat properly and work on his shields, not to mention have a decent rest. No matter how many times he scanned the park he would fail to contact that mind and enough was enough.

He loosed a tendril of thought, seeking the mind of the man who commanded his bodyguard and gently pressed to initiate the contact. He was a low level telepath but well trained and he opened to the contact when he felt Treize's probe.

"Don't react to the touch. I'm simply using you as camouflage on the odd chance we should be probed by our target on our way out."

"Sir." The acknowledgement was easy, the man undisturbed at his contact.

He found himself wondering if Une had managed to make it out of the office, or if she had perhaps been called back on receipt of his alert. He could well be Mr. Popularity in the morning and he wondered if he should skip the office all together and head straight for Tsuberov. He would not have wished for her position as head of Operations, being the Agency Prime was trying enough.

At least his particular needs gave him an out on occasion.

Tucking his hands into the pockets of his coat, an act his family Elders would be horrified to witness, he moved off; the bulk of his bodyguard unseen and unheard surrounding him. Given he still had that annoying prickle coursing up his spine at the unexpected contact, he was thankful to know he was not alone in the park. His current companion could casually leave once they left the park's grounds and assume his usual position; it would look quite natural and be unlikely to draw attention.

There was nothing more he could do, and for now being homeward bound and expectations of a decent meal filled his attention. Then he could fulfil that promise to work on his shields.

————————————-

Noin stirred as she felt the shift in the angle of the shuttle. They would be on their approach to the terminal and she sighed, straightening in her seat. It had been a pleasant interlude in which she had been able to catch up a little on lost sleep. She had no idea what awaited her in this city, but it was sure to be an adventure best faced with a rested mind.

The beauty of her new assignment was that she would be working closely with an organization which was fully psi aware and specialized in training Psi investigators in multiple fields. The Agency was highly dependent on their extensive list of psi active operatives; their agent's talents covered every conceivable talent in the broad spectrum of Psi ability. The beauty of working with them was that she would not have to endure the drama of yet again convincing new colleagues that her specialty was not fraudulent, and that her presence was not a waste of taxpayer's credits. Nor was she out to rip off innocent bystanders by putting them in contact with departed loved ones for monetary gain.

She was a working Medium, one of the few individuals with the talent to be accredited with a Prime level ranking in the field. She was not a money grabbing bitch out for all she could get, and she did tend to get a bit tetchy when her ethics were called into question; which seemed to happen all too often. She was heartily tired of the scepticism and outright disbelief she encountered when people learned of her occupation.

There were many people who were unable to get over the hurdle that death was not, in fact, the end. Period. So many people professed to believe, even as they scoffed to themselves and thought it all idiocy and a shameless grab for money on her part. Admittedly there were frauds and charlatans out there, too many of them, but she was not one.

How many people were of the opinion that dead was dead and that was an end to it?

How far from the truth that was.

She had learned early in her childhood that being dead did not leave you proof against the curses of confusion, dedication or fear of the unknown.

There were so many reasons why someone who died would desperately and stubbornly hold on to the real world, even when they held no corporeal body to bind them to this reality. A true Medium understood there was more to life than the slab of meat that was the human body, and that there was more to death than said body ceasing to function.

Guilt was a big one, perhaps the biggest reason, for keeping a soul from passing on to whatever lay beyond the horizon. People insisted on asking her what lay beyond, fully expecting her to know, but Noin had her own fears and beliefs. Her own taboos. Chief amongst her personal taboo's was pursuing the dead who had come to the point where they could move on, letting go of their reasons for lingering.

Noin had no desire to explore beyond the physical reality and pass over that horizon. Such was not for her to investigate.

In her eyes she was living, breathing flesh, and her soul was firmly anchored to said flesh. She had a deep love and zest for life, and what lay after that life was extinguished would be discovered in the fullness of time. It was not her place to explore beyond the horizon she had glimpsed through the sight of the dead, and she was careful not to cater to misguided curiosity.

What lay there was a great adventure, an adventure that, as yet, was not for her. The day would come, in due time, as it must come to everyone, and then she would tread toward that distant horizon and freely seek what lay beyond it; without fear and without regret. That was how it was meant to be and, God willing, that was how it would be.

For now, this was her task in life, to be their voice, their channel to the living. Yet another city and another mission that called her and the gift she had been born with; yet another voice she would need to be to set things right and address the balance between the living and the dead. This gift had once been considered a curse when she had not understood its complexities, or its inherent obligations. Those days seemed long ago, though in truth it had not been so long.

Beyond the windows she could see the landing lights of the terminal guiding them in. Not long now and she could disembark. Someone would be waiting for her, hopefully to take her to a hotel for the night and then meet her again in the morning. Or, if matters were particularly urgent, she might find herself on her way to the Agency to deal with the matter immediately.

When it came to matters of murder there was usually a lost, perhaps angry or even vengeful soul to be touched, soothed and eased into accepting the pathway to that other reality. It depended on the importance of the situation and, given they had called in a Prime level talent, it suggested a serious scenario had arisen.

A new serial killer on the loose?

She rather hoped not, given the disturbing nature of the case she had so recently completed. To fulfil her obligations she might be called upon to deal with a soul who, in life, had held responsibilities and might consider its duty to the living incomplete. She might be required to deal with a parent, a lover or a husband or wife seeking to deliver a parting message to a loved one. It might be a child; bereft, lost, feeling abandoned.

Whoever she was called upon to assist they needed a voice that could be heard that their outstanding issues might be completed to their satisfaction. With that satisfaction they would be released and drift naturally over that distant horizon.

She would be their voice and find a welcome sense of purpose in her own life.

She stared down at the city lights as the shuttle shuddered; she had flown enough to recognize it as landing gear lowering. Bright lights, blazing into the night, multi coloured jewels. A beacon the flight crew could not miss. Soon enough she would be on the ground and blessedly in the company of people who did not look twice at her from the corner of their eyes. Professional psychics themselves, they would not doubt her abilities.

It would be a welcome relief from the sceptics of the world.

Working for the Agency would be both a pleasure and a relief, it would almost be like returning home. It was not the first time she had worked for the organization. Whilst it was her first time in this particular city and working for this branch of the organization, she had worked with other operatives on three separate cases in locations around the globe, and not once had her talents been questioned, or her readings called into doubt.

There was also the added bonus on this occasion to be considered. All going well, she would make the acquaintance of the Agency's crowning acquirement; she would meet their Prime T/E talent, Treize Khushrenada.

Ah yes, she was looking forward to meeting that particular individual.

If he met her expectations, and she had heard quite a lot about the personable young Prime and believed she had realistic expectations of him, then he might just be the sire of the first of her offspring. It was doubtful she would be working directly with the Prime, their fields were somewhat different after all, but she should be able to wrangle a meeting during her stay. Enough for her to confirm her thoughts on him, and hopefully enough for her to make a good impression.

She had no details of the case she would be working on, but she was sure to have some free time in which she could make some discrete enquiries. A word in just the right ear, perhaps she might even contact a wandering spirit or two to learn more of the man. She would ensure a meeting could be arranged and, be it formal or made to look accidental, she would know if he was the one to sire her child. Such a child would count for both of them and she already knew he had only one child to date.

He would likely be receptive to discussions for a contract given the age of his daughter.

It was not something she did often, requesting aid from the dead. It was cheating, of course and she tried to be honourable at all times. The dead had their own issues to deal with, but there were a few deceased individuals whom she had assisted over the years that had chosen to linger on this physical plane. If she could contact one and they felt inclined to assist... Well, you never knew, they might find out something she would find both interesting and informative.

The sensitivity to be gained from introducing high level psi genes in the fields of empathy and telepathy to a Medium's offspring, had been theorized in select circles to be potentially quite advantageous. Of course before discussions could progress beyond the formative stage they would needed to follow the prerequisites of standard contractual negotiations. They would need to have complex genetic testing performed to ensure the resulting mix of genes would not be a disaster for any potential child they might share.

Over sensitivity of any type was a very real problem to be considered with any psi to psi paring. Runaway sensitivity was a disaster to both the physical and mental health of a child, and Prime Talents in particular had to be aware of the dangers to any child they might sire or conceive.

The fact the man had a known homosexual orientation was not a problem, in fact it might, if she was lucky, make him that much more approachable to the idea of siring her first child. She herself was undoubtedly bisexual; her parents would be horrified if they knew that little detail, as they insisted on trying to talk her into marriage with the boy down the street, even though she had not been home for quite some time. She loved them dearly, but she could do much better for herself than that particular young man, handsome as he was.

Her genes had been mapped as a part of her training, and the genetic markers for sexuality were unmistakable. If she had not been of a mind to believe the genetic markers then she had to believe her personal preferences. She looked at females every bit as often as she admired the male physiology.

Life could be funny, she mused. If she had not left that little town in the hills of Italy, then she would probably have married that boy down the street and possibly never have questioned her sexuality; or her future as a housewife. Did she regret the choices she had made in her life which had led to her current placement? Her life was certainly far more complicated than it would have been had she remained in the village, and to be certain there were days when she longed for the simplicity she remembered.

But no. The answer was definitely no, she had no regrets.

//I don't miss that life. I admit there are days I long for the simpler side; for the quiet days and the people I grew up with, but… I have seen so many wonderful things in the world. Enchanting places, extremely interesting people. My eyes have been opened to the wonders of the world and it has been a good life.//

Not that her life was over yet, far from it, but being a Medium she found herself constantly questioning her own life.

Everyone died. Usually with little or no warning. Death was an inescapable part of life.

She had spoken to so many spirits who lamented the time they had wasted in their life, and it gave rise to the inevitable question of how well she was living her own life. Was she wasting it? Life was such a precious thing, something most people did not appreciate until time ran out. Life held so many treasures to be experienced, and too few people went out each day with their arms and hearts open, minds reaching eagerly to experience its wonders.

She had to exercise all caution and not immerse herself in the affairs of the dead to the exclusion of her own life. She was Lucrezia Noin, uniquely Lucrezia, not the spirits she dealt with on a daily basis who would, if they could, live their lives through her. She needed to be firm with the separation between her working life and her life as an individual.

Her life was a precious thing.

It was the doom of the Medium to forget the natural order.

She must never permit herself to forget for an instant that she was Noin, and it was the life of Lucrezia Noin which mattered the most to her. If she found herself losing that perspective then she would need to step away from her work. It would take an extended period of rest, and perhaps a reasonable amount of therapy to recover herself. Only then might she again be of help to the dead, and to the living tied to them.

The sudden loss of altitude caused her to wince and she rested her head back against the headrest. They were coming down. She hoped whoever was meeting her would have a care for the time difference and her intense work on the last case. What she would like was to be shown to a hotel, find a decent meal awaiting her there and then luxuriate in a long hot soak in an oversized bath.

Oh yes, the utter luxury of the thought almost made her moan at the prospect of a little pampering.

Hopefully they would not expect her to leap into the case without the benefit of a decent night's sleep.

The landing was one of the rougher ones she had experienced considering the weather looked to be wonderful outside; a clear night with stars visible through the light pollution of the city. She grumbled to herself quietly as the shuttle slowed, the deceleration pushing her forward in her seat, but she was an accomplished traveller and took it in stride.

The fight attendant assisted her with gathering her luggage and accompanied her, helping to carrying her bags into the terminal through a connecting tunnel. The rolling walkway took them deeper into the terminal building, delivering her to the VIP lounge and to the operative awaiting her.

————————————————————-

Treize sighed softly as he left the park behind him, threading his way through the diminishing crowd of workers making their way home. He was still engaged in convincing himself of the necessity to leave this stage of the search to the team who would be arriving at the far entrance to the park about now. His guard commander inclined his head as he slipped away into the crowd, looking for all the world like a man nodding to a friend and going his own way at the end of a long day.

Nothing suspicious or remarkable about that.

Treize maintained his contact with the man's mind, making use of the lesser talent to mask his own greater talent until he felt it safe to drop the subterfuge. They had no way of knowing if the killer, who had to be shielding his talent, was still in the immediate vicinity. The prickle up his spine had lessened as they had departed the park, but he was inclined to err on the side of caution. Besides, maintaining the contact permitted him to keep in contact with Turner's mind and informed him when the guard received confirmation of the team's arrival at the park.

The confirmation relieved some of his concern, and he forced his attention away from murders and prickly spines that ruined casual walks in parks meant to relax a body. He was looking forward to returning home. First on the agenda would be to order a meal to be delivered to his suite, allowing enough time for him to enjoy a hot shower in the interim. After eating and he was more than passing peckish at the present time, he would get down to the serious business of meditating and working on his shields.

He would take the opportunity to do some serious investigation of the work Marquise had done on pulling the tattered shields together into something that was far from flimsy. He hoped to gain some understanding of exactly what the younger man had done, and how he had managed to do what equated to polishing the repairs, not merely effectively stitching gaps together.

A nudge at his mind as he approached the Agency offices and he turned his attention to the contact. Turner informed him the CCTV footage was acquired and en route to the Agency for investigation, and a team from the Law Enforcement Office had been assigned to assist in the identification of every male who had entered the park and was caught on camera during the specified time.

Treize was satisfied with the response to the contact. For the moment that was all he could do, and it would allow him to concentrate on the necessary personal work to ensure that horror of a woman would get her sticky fingers out of his mind and allow him to work as he saw fit. Work had intruded on his walk in the park where he had simply wished to unwind and enjoy a peaceful interlude... With some quiet and intensely private reflection on exquisite silver blonde perfection and crystal blue eyes, of course.

The intrusion of work on that time had left a decidedly discontented feeling, like a bad taste at the back of his mouth which refused to go away, despite the amount of times he swallowed.

It took him a few minutes, and came as no small surprise, to realize some of that discontent was not actually his own. Once the realization had struck he was quick to trace the emotion to the awareness… surprisingly from within himself! From within and from another person.

He sighed, softly cursing Gabriella and her sticky fingers. She could be a manipulative bitch, although he admitted it might yet prove useful to have this link with Zech Marquise. Should the stalker ever appear near Zechs, with this link tying them Treize was of the opinion he might be able to sense the unique signature of the killer through the younger man's awareness.

If he could feel Zechs Marquise was hardly enjoying the dinner he was attending, and was currently having a serious heart to heart with himself over certain details pertaining to his future, then it might well be possible to sense others through the link. Particularly the very distinctive mind of the killer and, with all due care on his part being taken, for Zechs to be unaware of the fact. It was something to consider when he had the chance, Treize mused.

He permitted himself the luxury of becoming distracted by the process of how Zechs was resolving the issue of his abhorrence to formal functions and found himself smiling as he followed the quick fire stream of thought. He felt gratified as the young man became aware of his presence, he need not fear being unwelcome, he realized, feeling the flash of pleased content from the younger man. Zechs was quite aware of his presence on a deeper level than his surface thoughts, and he displayed no fear of Treize, or thought he might go deeper into his thought processes.

Such delving simply was not polite amidst a telepathic society, and Treize would not think of trespassing without good cause.

He felt the momentary flash of thought as Zechs realized he was not wishful thinking the presence of the Prime; his presence in the link was considered more than welcome. The momentary uncertainty was gone like smoke on the wind, replaced by shy welcome and a mental blush as he realized Treize had followed his reasoning and decision to learn how to enjoy these formal gatherings.

Treize knew from experience that such formal dinners and socializing in elite circles would be part and parcel of the work that might be required of Zechs at a later time. He himself had attended so many dinner parties, cocktail parties and formal presentations that some days he wondered if he was actually better off working for the Agency and not simply being the Duke Khushrenada. As the Duke his social calendar surely would be no heavier than that required of him in his role as Prime.

But no, perish that train of thought. Being Agency Prime was far more interesting than running the family business on a full time basis.

Treize stopped in his tracks, hand extended toward the door of his car, eyes widening. Now what had upset his sexy blonde? He received a brief glimpse of blue eyes and darker blonde hair, the surge of emotion he recognized as a deep desire to flee and… What the hell was that he sensed?

Confusion abounded within the mind of the younger man and Treize felt Gabriella react even as he focused his attention on Zechs. Her distinctive presence flowed through the shared link, and he could almost hear her 'tutting' and 'hrumping' at the blossoming chaotic swirl of emotions.

Something, or rather someone, had thrown the young man onto the verge of utter mental chaos.

It came as something more than merely a shock to feel not only himself, but Gabriella as well, ejected from the merge with all the attention one would give to flicking an insect from one's sleeve. All of the younger man's attention focused on that 'someone else'. In the fleeting moment before those diamond hard shields crashed down, muting the contact, Marquise appeared to have very little in the way of coherent thought.

Treize and Gabriella were at an advantage in that the Gypsy prime had initiated the binding links and Gabriella was not so easily held at bay. Though muted and unable to do much except watch, he sensed Marquise was trying to deepen his shields and that action was having little to no effect on the chaos building within him.

Marquise was desperately trying to shield himself against something from the outside, Treize realised, when the real problem arose from deep within himself. With the advantage of Gabriella's established link, Treize dived for that awareness, gaining a fleeting impression of darkness, of fear in the darkness and panic rising. A sense of... Abandonment… fear of being alone...

//Idiot Boy! What is it waiting for you are? Getting your neat arse into gear you will be doing with all immediacy and seeing to my Sexy Boy you will be! Gabriella will be investigating while you will be shifting sexy butt into car!//

Treize blinked, shook himself mentally and thrust his hand against the print sensitive pad beneath the handle of the car. The seconds delay for the pad to read his fingerprints and unlock the car seemed interminable, before he could throw himself behind the wheel.

t.b.c.

Karina Robertson 2009

Notes:

Treize Kushrenada : Level 10 Sending/Receiving Telepath + Receiving and Projecting Empath at Level 10. Prime rated. Agency Operative contracted term of 5 years with 2 years remaining. [25yrs of age] Training facility: Psychic Institute Munich Division.

Michael Turner: Level 4 Sending/Level 5 Receiving Telepath. Psychic Institute, Washington Division [age 35 yrs] Assigned Chief Bodyguard to Treize Khushrenada, Agency Prime.


	34. Chapter 34

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 34/??

Author: Karina

Pairings 13x6 [eventual], 5xS [established], 3x4, Others undecided at this time.

If anybody would like to archive The Agency, just drop me a line.

Warnings: Extreme Alternate Universe setting. Aussie spelling, not much else in the early chapters though it will involve murder, stalking and possibly some colourful language down the track. Some Out Of Character depictions are unavoidable considering the alternate universe setting.

Rating: M [In Australia that would be mature adult 15+] Not sure with the new rating system. Rated for murder and violence as well as adult concepts.

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. That's about as plain as you could say it.

Many thanks to the wonderful ShenLong Deb for betaing this chapter for me.

_Italics_ Telepathy

// … // Thoughts

The Agency: Meeting of Souls

Chapter 34

It was not a long drive from the Agency's carpool to the hotel, even at the worst time of the day, rush hour. The drive was made faster for Treize with a few seconds additional delay and the use of his prerogative as the Agency Prime. A single call stating his clearance level within the city protocols and Treize requested, and received immediately, a priority route enabling him to circumvent the heavier traffic. With a priority lane cleared to the hotel Treize was able to test out just how fast his car could go.

The additional speed the exercise garnered even quieted Gabriella from annoying him with her tirade about his so called 'tardiness' in reaching Marquise. If it were not for the turmoil from the younger man shared through the bond instigated by Gabriella, Treize would have enjoyed breaking every speed rule in the ESUN. For all of the responsibilities of his position both as a Prime talent and as a Duke there was, lurking beneath the gentlemanly exterior, a young man who instinctively liked the thrill of fast cars and dangerous speeds.

There was, however, more to concern him than revelling in how much speed he could coax out of the car. He was justified in utilizing his city clearances to mark a priority route and in the use of exuberant speed, given he was enroute to assist a registered psychic of Prime level status, not that anyone but Gabriella knew it. At the moment it would be assumed, by those he had contacted to clear the route for him, that he was responding to a breakthrough in the current case he was engaged in, and he was hopeful of keeping it that way.

It was his desire, and Gabriella's too, that they keep the incident quiet.

He could sense Gabriella within the merge, tutting and muttering over the unavoidable delay in his reaching Marquise. Unavoidable simply because he was not blessed with a teleportation talent; even the indomitable Gabriella had to allow him some leeway on his tardy arrival when mundane means of transport were required.

How long had it been? Certainly it could not have been any more than a few minutes given the speed with which he was moving. If he looked to his right he could see the hotel, he just needed to negotiate the exit ramp now coming up on his right; two minutes should see his arrival.

If they wanted to keep this quiet and known to as few persons as possible he would need to look unruffled, the picture of the perfectly presented gentleman to avoid attracting unwanted attention. Until he could reach Marquise, bystanders had to see the suave and sophisticated Duke Khushrenada, not the Agency Prime.

Duke Khushrenada, that was the persona he needed to project from the moment he opened the car door. If one looked as though one belonged then no one would comment on one's appearance in unexpected places. If one was uncomfortable in oneself and thought oneself to be out of place then, assuredly, you would look out of place and be certain to draw attention.

Given he was not dressed for a night out on the town he would need to project the Duke's business persona. A well to do and well presented gentleman on his way to a business meeting. That impression would need to serve him given he had no time to acquire a change of attire.

Who and how many people might have noted there was a problem with the budding, soon to be named, Prime? He was going into this situation blind, having no means of knowing the exact circumstances surrounding Marquise's evening's affairs. Given what he knew of the Tsuberov psyche set he imagined there might have been some form of formal dinner, and given the time of evening it would likely still have been underway. If it was not a formal meal he could hope the social chit chat stage had been reached and perhaps Marquise had managed to make himself scarce before too many people became aware of a problem.

He had received the impression the young Winner heir was close by and had responded in some fashion. However he had reacted it had drawn a welcome, even relieved, response from Marquise. The sense of relief engendered in Marquise had been enough for Gabriella to moderate her reaction to the budding crisis. She had subsided somewhat since it was clear Winner was close at hand and attentive... but who else might have been in his company?

There had been someone else present... female, he was certain. Female and of a social station high enough that she had thrown Marquise off his equilibrium. Gabriella was strangely silent on the matter and he had too much to concentrate on, namely not wrecking the car, to pursue the matter.

He slowed the car enough to slip neatly into the exit lane, frowning a little, as through his link with Gabriella, he felt an echo of her annoyance with someone in her presence. Whatever was happening she was becoming distracted from monitoring the situation with Marquise and her temper was rising and… there, she had curtailed the link with Marquise, no doubt for his protection.

Her temper was something the young man certainly did not need to deal with when he was having such difficulty handling whatever had upset him. As he negotiated the extended curve of the ramp, Treize monitored the link between them, realizing that Gabriella was going so far as to erect a barrier, though Treize could still emote her reactions and no doubt she could still follow his responses. She would not drop the links that bound the three of them until she was assured all was well, but what was it that had drawn her temper?

As much as he wanted to know what was distracting her, he was more concerned with the need to delve deeper into the emotions he was sensing from Marquise. To pursue either course of interest in depth at this time would be a fatal mistake. He had to keep his attention on the road and spare only minimal attention for what was happening in the hotel ahead of him. Purely physical driving had to dominate his mind, though he could multi task enough to monitor the younger man's condition. Crashing the car at this speed would solve nothing.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself and force his attention to focus on the road, Treize turned into the hotel driveway, sparing a moment to punch his clearance key code and notify traffic control he had cleared the priority route. Given the prestige of the hotel, he knew there was valet parking available and he could not simply leave the car parked out front. As he pulled up before the entrance he was careful to shut down access to the more sensitive onboard systems that were not needed to directly drive the vehicle. It would not do to have anyone poking around confidential and extremely expensive equipment.

Taking a moment to compose himself and run a hand through his hair, checking his appearance in the mirror, he spared the few precious seconds for three measured breaths. Instead of allowing each breath to take him down into psi working mode, this time Treize focused the effect on his nerves, composing himself for the appearance he must foster. Cool, calm and sophisticated; the persona of Duke Khushrenada, businessman and highly placed member of the European aristocracy. That was who he had to see looking back at him in the mirror when he opened his… well, it would just have to do.

It had already been a long day and he was certainly not dressed for a formal evening's entertainment. Hopefully no one would ask him what the hell he was doing there, dressed as he was.

He distinctly caught Gabriella's empathic snort and the feeling of a 'raspberry' being blown. The mental equivalent of the raspberry, 'pfttt!', was quite clear in betraying her thoughts on his uncertainties. Though her thoughts were closed to him he knew exactly what she would have said were she to open the contact.

'Prime you are, is all need be said!'

Words to that effect, at any rate. Were Gabriella to be standing in his place now she would likely march in the door, glare anyone down who got in her way and march on through, not caring who noticed her passage. She was that kind of woman and you did not question, you simply asked how high she required you to jump.

He intended to be a little more discrete than that.

Exiting the car he nodded briefly to the uniformed young man who stood waiting. The young valet looked like he was about to have an orgasm as he eyed the car, and there was no mistaking the emotions blasting from him. Well, there were not many of the Ghosts to be found in the world, and to his knowledge his was the only one in the city. Treize supposed such a reaction was understandable from a car enthusiast, which this young man appeared to be. She was, as he could attest, a very nice car to drive, but there had best not be the smell of sex in the car when he returned. The only sex Treize ever wanted to smell in there was his own and…

No, let's not go there.

He motioned to the valet to enter the car and take his place behind the wheel, indicating the glowing plate on the dashboard. He was required to authorize a new driver, albeit a temporary one, or the car would indeed be parked out front of the hotel all evening.

"Place your left hand on the plate."

His instruction was obeyed and Treize typed in an authorization code, straightening up as he punched in enter and pressed his thumb to a smaller plate to authorize the code. A ring of embedded LCD lights flashed on around the steering wheel before darkening again and Treize nodded slightly.

"You are authorized to park the car and return it to me when I activate a remote. Make a point of informing your supervisor that only you can drive her when I call for her. I trust you will not be going off shift for the next few hours?"

"Yes, sir! No sir, I will be here until two in the morning."

He certainly hoped he was not still at the hotel at two in the morning. Treize turned from the car, not watching as the vehicle purred away smoothly and focused his attention on the doorman, who inclined his head respectfully and held the door open for him to pass. The noise of the city fell behind him and was cut off as he passed through the inner doors, a second doorman bowing formally to him as he entered into the world of the uber rich and luxurious.

Stepping into the wide lobby Treize speared a look about him, noting the marble pillars, the black marble floor with the ultra high gloss that reflected back the furniture, fittings and people walking it with mirror quality. The Reception area to the left and a line of elevators to the…

Aqua blue eyes stared into his, widening in surprise and worry, long blonde hair shielding that other face bent toward the floor, strong arm wrapped around a slender waist… the elevator door closed with a perfectly pitched chime.

//Shit! Right, I am heading upstairs then.//

At least his association with Tsuberov's Security Chief had provided him with the suite number being used by the three young men and he would not require anyone look the information up for him. Treize strode casually across the foyer, blue eyes sweeping over the area as he sent a thought to his chief bodyguard, forcing himself to keep his pace to a casual stroll. He needed to allow enough time but not get caught up in a conversation with anyone, and certainly not attract unwanted attention.

The elevators at a hotel of this class were an integral part of the overall security system. They would be encoded so that only guests of the establishment might activate them, and to make it look as though he was a guest returning to his suite he needed the elevator to open when he called it. He was not a registered guest but he was on the list of the cities priority elite. His guard would require a good thirty seconds for the computers to communicate and register him as being authorized to have access to the upper floors of the hotel. Discretion required he enter the elevators, request his floor and not have the elevator notify security of an unauthorized request.

He would not wait for the same elevator, of course, but chose to use the third of the three elevators dedicated to the floors housing the Tsuberov student's suites. How was the time going? He was only a few steps away from the elevator and no acknowledgement had come from Turner. A little more time was required… How casual a saunter did he need to affect and when would it become suspicious?

'_Access confirmation received.'_

Relieved Treize took the last two steps and could not help holding his breath as he reached to touch a finger to the call pad for scanning. There were no sirens wailing, no visible signs of an alert and, he hoped, no silent alarm sounding in the security control room. Calmly Treize stepped through the opening doors and into the elevator, turning to face the lobby as he reached out and pressed for the appropriate floor...

Duo Maxwell and Princess Relena of Sanc?!

The pair were exiting a function room as the doors of the elevator began to close, both looking warily over their shoulders. It was obvious neither wished to be followed and it aroused the Prime's curiosity.

The Sweeper brat and the Princess? It was not a combination he had expected to find.

———————————————————

The very last thing Quatre had expected to see was the T/E Prime entering the hotel lobby. There was not a single doubt the tall man with the russet hair was Treize Khushrenada; the man was unmistakable to anyone with a hint of empathy. To the empathically aware the Prime was like a sunburst going off in the immediate vicinity; brilliant bright light, warm and irradiating controlled confidence and power into the air about him.

What the hell was he supposed to do now?

There was only one real explanation for the Prime's appearance at this time, in this exact place, and it was not an explanation Quatre was happy with. For the Prime to have put in so neatly timed an appearance Zechs must have been generating something of his current state on a telepathic level and had attracted the man's attention. Quatre's low level telepathic talent had not detected anything in the function room; it was his empathy that had alerted him to something being wrong. He was nowhere near the same level of sensitivity as the Prime, who clearly knew that something was wrong. Why else would he be here, now of all times?

At least the elevator doors were now closed and they were ascending to their floor. He had a few minutes at best to prepare himself and Zechs for the Prime's arrival; the man would have to gain a visitor's pass from reception before he could access the elevators to follow them.

Had Zechs noticed?

Quatre grunted softly as Zechs listed sideways, bracing himself and taking the larger man's weight until Zechs gathered himself together and pulled himself upright, bracing against the walls of the elevator. To Quatre's searching gaze Zechs seemed disoriented, blue eyes unfocused and narrowed in a fashion that suggested he was in pain.

"Quatre?" His voice was low and huskier than usual.

"Yes?"

"Sorry."

His hands rested flat against the rear of the elevator, fingers spread wide to gain some purchase on the smooth, polished wood grain surface. As Quatre watched Zechs slowly worked himself into the corner, using the adjoining walls to brace himself until he settled and rested his head against one wall, panting softly.

"Sorry."

Though it was the last thing in the world he felt like doing, Quatre smiled. At this time Zechs needed reassurance, to feel he was not alone and they could, together, manage to gain some control over whatever this... problem.. might be. Quatre was only too aware that if they did not somehow master the situation, Zechs would have to resign himself to not escaping the restrictions placed on him at Tsuberov.

And there Quatre found himself in a quandary. Truth to tell, if he was experiencing this form of instability, then Zechs needed to remain at the laboratories and work on the problem. Surely Zechs himself was aware of that simple truth? They would need to discuss it because this simply could not be ignored. But that could wait for another time.

"What are friends for, Zechs? It's okay. We will sort things out, get you settle down and just… move on."

He would like to say they could move on from here with little expected to change in their lives; to act as though nothing had happened, but there was no way that could happen. If someone at the dinner had not noticed something was wrong, there was still the Duke to be contended with. There was no mistaking the identity of the man in the foyer and Quatre knew he was aware of their little problem. The Duke had looked right into his eyes.

Then there was Otto. Quatre was sure the Security Chief had noted something was happening, and he was certain Otto would not leave well enough alone. The Chief, at some point, was sure to make his way to the suite to discover what was happening.

It was as well the suite was large given it was likely to get crowded rather quickly.

Otto would be there as soon as he could extricate himself from the niceties of the social gathering; and knowing Otto that would not take long at all. The Prime was sure to put in an appearance before then and he was undoubtedly the best one suited to, and capable of, dealing with the situation. His unexpected presence at the hotel was undoubtedly a blessing in disguise, though it would lead to complications in the long term. Had the Dean or one of the Masters in attendance noticed and, if so, which of them would put in an appearance to further complicate matters?

Allah, what was he to do to sort this out? Where did he start to contain the mess? It would not just be the Tsuberov staff who would become involved. None other than Princess Relena of Sanc, the Crown Princess of a sovereign nation, was involved. Somehow, Quatre was quite sure she would contrive to convince Duo to bring her up to the suite. If she was seen anywhere at the hotel other than the reception area and function rooms, then questions would be asked. If she was, unthinkably, seen entering or leaving their suite..Allah!

The scandal would rock the ESUN. The tabloids would love it!

He could only hope that Otto, and whichever of the Masters that accompanied him, would want to keep the scandal from happening. He only hoped they would not be publicly expelled from Tusberov. A nice, discrete meeting, no fuss or bother...

Oh, it was beginning to develop into a fine mess the more he thought about it.

"You won't be able to do much to help me, and I don't… I don't want you getting into any trouble on… my account. If you would just help me to get to the suite… That would be enough. Then you can go back... return to the others. I'll be okay."

Quatre glared, hoping the look would be enough, but he was uncertain Zechs could actually see with any clarity at the moment. His eyes were narrowed and there was a distant look in them Quatre did not particularly like.

" I've dealt with this before and… and I can sort it out. I just… needed to get out of there… for a bit."

"This is one of those 'panic' attacks I have heard you used to suffer from, isn't it? People talk, Zechs, especially rich and bored young people. I have heard of the attacks but never witnessed one before now, and I must say it does not particularly look like... or feel like... a panic attack to me. Don't worry, we'll sort this out in no time at all. You can get to bed and you can sleep it off before anyone realises something is wrong."

"Nnooo I… I need to speak to the Princess."

Quatre snorted and waved a hand negligently in the air. He had his own ideas about that!

"Yes, well we will see. The first thing we need to do is get you into the suite and calmed down."

"Need to speak with her. Really...do...Just a few... minutes...alone..."

Quatre stepped closer to Zechs as the music filling the elevator cut off, the doors opening behind him and he hitched his shoulder under Zechs' arm pit, taking his weight.

"I am not leaving you alone, as in alone alone, or with Relena of Sanc alone. Get that idea out of your head here and now. Hush now and let's go."

"Sorry." Zechs stumbled as he shifted his weight from the walls to Quatre's shoulder. "Sorry... for all... this."

"I am your friend and what else are friends for? Now hush up and walk."

At least they did not need to travel the entire length of the hallway to reach the privacy of their suite. Zechs was giving his best effort in trying to make it easier for him, taking as much of his own weight as possible. They walked close enough to the wall for Zechs to slide his free hand along the wall in an effort to steady himself and make his bulk more manageable. Quatre had hoped to get Zechs into their suite without there being any witnesses and it appeared they would be lucky enough to do so...until the elevator two bays across from the one they had used chimed and the Prime stepped into the hallway.

Quatre silently named himself thirteen kinds of idiot. It had been his hope that the Prime would need to arrange security clearance to ride the elevators to the private floors, the resulting delay giving Quatre sufficient time to get Zechs safely to their suite. He should have known that someone like Treize Khushrenada, with his contacts and security clearance as the Agency Prime, would have no difficulty in gaining immediate access where ever he wished to go.

Either he zoned out for a few seconds or the man had wings! His friend's weight was abruptly gone, the taller Prime having no difficulty in supporting Zechs, and then those intense sapphire blue eyes were on Quatre, demanding with a look that he get his backside into gear and move.

"I..."

"Talk can come later, right now we need to get him to the suite. I have my bodyguards running interference for us, so we have a few minutes to get him out of the public eye."

Quatre hesitated the barest fraction of a second before hurrying ahead of the Prime and slapping his palm to the door plate of their suite. The door whisked efficiently aside before the man arrived with his burden and, to his surprise, Zechs made no protest to the Prime's sudden appearance or manhandling of him. In fact, he seemed quieter, more relaxed and alert, his eyes hinting at a reduced discomfort.

"His bedroom is through there."

Khushrenada glanced up, noted the door Quatre indicated and shook his head. "The lounge is the better option for now. I need him seated, not lying down. It will be easier for him to work if he does not feel quite so much the invalid and I can not have him falling asleep at this time."

Quatre hovered as Zechs was manhandled into one of the oversized armchairs and the Prime promptly parked his butt on the edge of the coffee table, facing the chair. Slipping his fingers to the temples of Zechs' forehead the Prime lifted the blonde's head to make eye contact with him, glancing quickly to Quatre.

"When the others get here tell them to shut up, stay still or get out. The latter would, honestly, be my preferred option. I do not need interruptions while I am dealing with this and I would appreciate it if they would give me the space to work uninterrupted."

"Yes, sir." Quatre settled in the arm chair across from the pair, blue eyes wide.

——————————————-

_Sorry. So sorry._

He allowed his perceptions to grow, to expand outward and encircle the presence that was Zechs Marquise. Treize could so clearly feel the insecurity, the pain, the fear… the uncertainty and 'other worldly' feeling that was growing within the perceptions of the younger man. Zechs was still under the misconception that he was fighting off the encroachment of something from the outside world, and not something rising up from deep within his own psyche.

_There is nothing to apologize for. We are Prime. We support each other._

He could feel Gabriella lingering at the back of his awareness and following his every action. She was uncommonly quiet, he mused and he was far from happy with the situation, but he would trust her, as he had learned it was safe to do. Her silence was worrying, but she would no doubt step forward and take charge of the situation should she feel the need. He knew she trusted him; she had had a large part in his training and the education of his talent, and for now he needed to dedicate his entire concentration to the distressed mind placed willingly in his hands.

_ I didn't mean to take you away from your work. I can deal with this._

_ Undoubtedly you can, but you do not need to deal with this alone._

The protest, the rising mental anguish experienced for disrupting the affairs of so important an individual, one who had been kind enough to express an interest in his future, was clear. Zechs was honestly wishing he would return to more important matters than chasing after students who could not hold their own heads together. He did not wish to be a bother.

_ Enough, my friend. Would you have Gabriella put in an appearance? No? Wise of you, I must say. I am by far the lesser of evils, so settle down and allow me to work when we get you to your suite. You supported me when I needed it, not so long ago; thank you for that, by the way. It was much appreciated. I am simply returning the favour. _

He enfolded the younger man in his arms, steadying him and supporting his weight, relieving the smaller, slighter built Winner heir of Marquise. He was gratified when Zechs permitted his awareness to enfold him and seep through those brilliant, diamond hard shields the blonde boasted. Marquise would not again protest his presence, he knew, and would permit him to assist him physically as well as mentally.

He was quick to dampen down the psychic pain receptors, granting the younger man some much needed relief from the rising disruption caused by feeding back the pain and discomfort in an ever expanding and multiplying loop. He speared Winner with a look and was gratified when Winner appeared to get the message and was not inclined to argue the point with him. Quatre ran ahead to unlock the door and Treize contented himself for the moment with getting Zechs to the suite and settled.

How long could he hope for his guard to effectively delay the appearance of other hotel patrons and staff in the hallway? During his ride in the elevator they had effectively shut down the vacant elevators and, by now, would have locked down the elevators he and Quatre had been using. He had informed them he needed a few minutes to get Marquise safely out of the way, and he had been assure in turn that no one from any other level in the hotel would interrupt them. But there was the possibility of someone already on the floor noticing what was going on.

Treize only hoped everyone was out for the evening... or was having an early night and would hear nothing to arouse suspicions.

It had, in fact, sounded rather ominous to Treize and he was intent on discretion, not out to alarm anyone, but his guard had assured him they would merely see no one accessed the stairwell and jam the elevators for a period of time. A computer glitch, he had been assured, that would clear itself and give him the needed time to prepare, and how long would his Grace require? Sometimes having efficient bodyguards was more benefit than hindrance.

He might even give some thought to keeping them after Gabriella vanished from his immediate vicinity.

Prior to leaving the elevator his guard had informed him that the Princess of Sanc and Duo Maxwell were attempting to access an elevator, and he had breathed a sigh of relief that he would not have to deal with anyone during the initial stages of the session with Marquise. They could be delayed for sufficient time to permit him to lay the groundwork in settling Marquise.

But, he had to wonder, just what was Duo Maxwell doing with the Princess of Sanc?

The door to the suite was open before he reached it and Quatre was hovering in the doorway, quick to get out of his way and indicate the bedroom normally used by Zechs. Treize was quick to set his burden down in a sound chair which would offer good physical support for Marquise, and found himself fending off Gabriella's sudden return appearance surging in his awareness. Marquise noted her presence but before he could be alarmed, or go into another round of apologies, Treize, greatly daring and not at all in the mood to prevaricate, blocked his mentor curtly informing her that he was working and did not need distractions or input from bystanders.

He would likely get his ears fried at a later time but he was gratified that Gabriella backed off. He made known, in a more civil manner, the limits to which he would permit her observation and hid his surprise when Gabriella accepted it without comment. He had the impression she had curt words with someone in her presence, but for Treize she had only the lightest of mental touches, an assurance she knew he was well suited to the work he was about to do.

Setting Winner to watch the door and see that he was not disturbed, he spared a few seconds to inform his guards not to overdo the problem with the elevators. He assured them he had measures in place and required them to simply contain the amount of people who sought to enter the suite to less than a handful and to use discretion in their methods.

Assured of his space to effectively handle the situation, Treize turned his attention to the actual problem. Within the diamond like shields it was another world entirely. He gave no further thought to the young man curled tensely within the chair opposite, chewing on his nails as he waited for the world to fall in on his head. Treize was sure Winner was up to the occasion and would do exactly as had been demanded of him when others arrived; and they would come, he knew that. What was now of concern to him was Marquise and only Marquise.

_ It won't stop. I have to block it. Make it stop._

Marquise was disoriented, constantly working away at the shields; strengthening, polishing to crystal brilliance in an attempt to block himself from outside influence, from the source of the pain... and all the time the trouble lay within.

_ I only need a few minutes to block it out, but it takes longer each time. I was doing so well. I thought I was over it. _

With serpentine grace and exacting precision Treize threaded his awareness through the chaos. He sampled it periodically, tasting the scent and flavour, determining exactly what it was he must assist in containing. He knew this flavour, marked it as integral to the chaos, moved on, sampling, evaluating, all the while isolating the essence of Marquise from the essence of the chaos until, with consummate care, Treize succeeded in enfolding Marquise within an island of calm.

He stood between the roiling chaos of emotion and the conscious awareness of the mind it sprang from, and held the two firmly apart. He was distantly aware of Gabriella settling herself more firmly, giving him that little bit more room to work. She held a tight screen containing herself within strict boundaries, and as an added precaution he set a barrier of his own. He would not tolerate interference, even from Gabriella when he was working.

_ You are setting your extremely effective blocks in the wrong direction, my friend. It is not something from outside, this thing which is causing so much distress to you. At one time, undoubtedly, it had its source outside of your control, outside of your influence, but whatever it is you are fighting, whatever it is that is frightening you, it is now rising from within you. _

_ Within? Oh no, no… I can't… outside… oh._

_ Easy. Settle for me, Zechs. We have a bit of work ahead of us, and it may take more than one session to pin this down exactly, but you can believe me. I have no reason to lie to you, or to deceive you in any way. We need to go deeper into your consciousness and trace this storm._

_ Deeper? _

He sounded dazed, uncertain and Treize could not blame him. The effort Zechs had put into creating, maintaining and strengthening that shield was incredible, and still he felt himself to be compromised; unable to cope with the stresses of everyday living amongst other people. Zechs felt himself to be a failure, unable to keep his own thoughts private and keep out the thoughts of others, and Treize would not have that continue.

Lord, he wanted to learn how to craft such a diamond like shield to keep his own awareness safe, and Treize knew there was only one person who could teach him how to do that! No, he needed to show Zechs that he was quite good at what he did, more than capable, and that others had faith in his abilities.

_ I think what is troubling you might be a memory. A memory of something that happened a long time ago. It is, I believe, buried deep in your subconscious and given power over you by long denial. Consciously you have forgotten it, but it is still there. We all have those dark and hidden places Zechs. We all have our dark moments when we prefer to lock away things we may have done, or had done to us; especially when we do not understand them. Things, memories of experiences we feel are best forgotten; sometimes they break free and when they do they must be explored. _

_ I didn't do anything wrong! I didn't do anything! _

It was almost as though the young psychic regressed to childhood, the young man suddenly more a pleading child expressing his innocence of wrong doing, and Treize increased the warmth he generated on the psychic plane, offering comfort and trust in an effort to reassure.

_ Yes, most likely you have not done anything wrong. Time has darkened whatever happened and subconsciously you think it best not to know, not to acknowledge whatever transpired. Unfortunately it will grow progressively darker, more dangerous, and it will get stronger over time. If you will trust me, if you can bring yourself to trust me enough to help you, I can be here, rock solid for you. Together we can look in to the heart of this fear and we can take the sting out of it._

Something in what he said sparked anxiety that swirled like an opaque fog within the cocoon of his protective envelope. Treize waited, not making any effort to approach Zechs closer than he was on this level of awareness. He was here to help, to give confidence where he could and to ensure they did not lose this brilliant young man to the dark recesses of his own mind.

They lost so many high talent empathic telepaths to insanity. He was determined Marquise was not going to become another statistic.

_ Fear? It… is… fear…? I don't… know... What could it be? Am I afraid of something... Inside of me? I don't... Know if I... _

_ You are uncertain if you wish to learn what it is? _

The affirmation from Zechs came in a trembling sigh within the exclusion zone Treize had set up, a surge of fear of the unknown even as the chaos Treize had set the barrier to contain battered the shield. It did not surprise him. At some point in every life you needed to look into yourself and find the dark things, the hidden things. Willingly or not, everything eventually emerged from the dark places.

This was likely the first such instance for Zechs, when he had to face his past and whatever had created the memory he hid in darkness. Treize knew it would not be the last instance where something lurking in a safe darkness broke free and demanded to be explored, or offer up insanity as an alternative.

_ I can understand that uncertainty, but know this, Zechs Marquise, this Thing that has hidden in the darkness for so long, if it is not examined and dealt with it will always be there, waiting for you. Waiting for a tiny moment of weakness, or distraction on your part where it can slip through your barriers and try yet again to take you down into chaos. Do you want it to be there until it drives you over the edge of sanity to escape it? We can deal with it together. We can find out, here and now, exactly what it is. We can take the sting out of the scorpion's tail and you will be free of it._

_ It... will be gone?_

_ If we deal with it properly, and I will be with you all the way; there will be no more attacks like this one._

A long, pause, a moment when a psychic breath was held and then released in a slow sigh. For a timeless moment on the psychic plain Treize felt Zechs hesitate, felt him teetering on the edge of indecision.

_ You will be there? You will be with me?_

He tried to generate, on the emotional level, the full conviction he held not to leave the young man alone with the ghosts that inhabited the dark places.

_I will._

_ Gabriella?_

_ I can request she be here, if you wish it. She would come, willingly, to help. _

_ I… don't know… They called it a panic attack. They said it was because I felt I did not belong here... at Tsuberov. Are you sure it's not that? _

_ "They should have explored further, but we can question the why of it later. It has all of the signs of a memory; a repressed memory. From the impressions I have garnered from the general feel of the memory I think you were quite young. What we must always remember, Zechs, is that what was frightening, or significant in many ways to a young child, is not so terrible to an adult. You are no longer that small child who was frightened and are now far better equipped, more experienced, more emotionally mature, to deal with this memory than you were in the past. _

The hesitation was still there but he knew he was being listened to, that his thoughts were making sense to the younger man.

_ It ... This thing... will not rise like this again? I will be free of it?_

_ I will not lie to you. I do not know what it is that frightened you as a child. Most things are proven to be less of a bugbear as we grow older. In some cases more than one session has been required to deal with repressed memories, but these are usually cases where a child has witnessed terrible crimes. Do you know if there was ever some suggestion of such in your past?_

_ No. _The breath of a psychic whisper._ I... I don't believe so._

_ Then one session should bring matters out of the shadows and allow us to examine it. If we trace the memory and discover exactly what it is, why it was sealed away by your subconscious, then we can deal with it. You will not be alone, I promise you. I will be here, guiding you, supporting you through the whole process. Whatever it is it has been able to fester for a long time and it should not be permitted to putrefy any longer. Like an infection it needs to be lanced and drained. _

Treize felt the younger man brace himself, felt the sense of inevitability and resignation.

_ I suppose I will need to remain at Tsuberov for another year. They will not allow me to graduate after this._

Treize chose not to comment, waiting. He was well aware Zechs was not a sulky, petulant child but an adult who was highly trained and versed in the needs of the professional psychic. He had been drilled in safety protocols for some years now and he was not asking questions, merely stating the obvious.

_Rightly so too. I am a danger to everyone with unresolved psychological issues._

_ Then permit me to investigate and, perchance, to resolve the issue. I am qualified, you know. I will be thorough, and I will be fair in my report to Tsuberov._

_ But if we do find out what it is, I can be free of Tsuberov?_

_ Perhaps, I could not say either way, with any certainty, and I want to be honest with you._

Treize felt Gabriella stir in his awareness. He knew she was monitoring their conversation and she had assured him she would not interfere, trusting him to deal with this matter like the professional he was. She was staying well back from the younger man's awareness, shielding him from her and…

Did he detect another presence... behind her? There was something... Some one! Keeping Marquise shielded protectively he sharpened his perceptions and focused on the link, tracing it back toward her with the speed of thought and seeking beyond…

_ No, Naughty Boy. Apologies I am giving to you for this and explaining Gabriella will be when time is right. Such is not for now and trusting Gabriella she is asking you do. Go no further. Gabriella will attend to matters._

Unhappy with the request Treize lingered, glaring into the barrier that grew up before him; Gabriella's doing he knew. He allowed his displeasure to be known and remained unmoveable; unwilling to compromise on psychic safety when Marquise was so vulnerable. The old Gypsy finally offered up a sigh and reached for a deeper contact with him.

_ Much Gabriella has been learning and no time now is there speaking of it to be. Chasing this fear and setting it to rest you must be doing. This one with the sexy eyes well worth protecting is, and Gabriella trusting you is she to work with him. Is Gabriella not magnanimous, leaving Sexy Eyes to you? Watching and watching only will I be, and He through my psychic sight. Is needful for this to be, for all concerned or Gabriella would be kicking butt. Trusting Gabriella are you still to know best?_

_ To know best for whom?_

Oh yes, he was not amused and he wanted that plainly understood. It was not done to trespass in such a fashion into another person's mind and this mysterious 'He' was certainly not welcomed by him. Gabriella, Treize would tolerate, she had earned his trust, but this other? And Marquise was vulnerable. It was his duty to protect the younger man.

_ I am not pleased with this._

_ This much is Gabriella knowing and understanding she is also. But necessary, I am thinking, to know; to be knowing the truth of why Sexy eyes is afraid. Is necessary, Prime Khushrenada. Is necessary._

What had the terrible old woman learned that she was alluding to but not clearly identifying?

_ Zechs…_

_ Sexy Eyes is needing undivided attention and Prime you are. Be Prime. Work well. Add to our number before this fear is taking him from us. Little as Gabriella has sensed, knowing am I it is something old and dark and important. This one keeping chained so he not interfere, I will be, but know it, I am thinking, he must. Go. Trust what Gabriella does is for good of Sexy Eye ._

_ I will not lie to him!_

_ Asking you to lie Gabriella is not. If asking he does then speaking you must; but if not asking no need to be speaking is there?_

Treize growled to himself, unhappy, but he could not afford to delay long. Marquise had expressed trust in him to guide him in dealing with this problem and Treize had no time to argue with the old woman. He speared a suspicious glare beyond the presence of the gypsy Prime and he felt the presence, strong and commanding shift back from his glare, mindful of a Prime's talent. There was no lack of respect sensed, a great deal of caution, and the awareness and acceptance of consequences should he interfere.

With a clearly unhappy growl in the direction of the presence, and slamming down another set of barriers to contain both Gabriella and her 'He', Treize turned his attention fully to the young man who was quietly and efficiently gathering his shattered senses and quieting the panic.

Zechs now knew that the disturbance was not from an outside source. He trusted Treize and his explanation for what was causing the disruption. He was not so panicked and his training was asserting itself. Treize knew the younger man would not be so much baggage on this exercise, but a vital and active part of the procedure.

_ Ready? Gabriella is aware of what has happened. Of what we are about to do._

She would not be amused with him, but Treize was not going to lie to the young man, or conveniently forget to tell him there was an observer. Treize might permit himself to be guided by her, but he would not be ruled by anyone, least of all Gabriella, who worked in mysterious ways.

_ I suppose I am as ready as I will ever be. Gabriella... It's alright for Gabriella to know. Enough people will know it soon enough._

Treize offered forth a comforting warmth. _Not so many, my friend. Only those who need to know, and only as much as they need. We are all entitled to our privacy._

He spared one angry thought for Gabriella and the unknown person she permitted a merge with, receiving back a tired acknowledgement from his mentor and Treize focused his attention on Marquise.

t.b.c.

Karina Robertson 2009

* * *

Authors Notes

Treize Kushrenada : Level 10 Sending/Receiving Telepath + Receiving and Projecting Empath at Level 10. Prime rated. Agency Operative contracted term of 5 years with 2 years remaining. [25yrs of age] Training facility: Psychic Institute Munich Division.

Quatre Rababer Winner: Psi student, 2nd year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Current Level 5 Telepath, projected Level 7, Current Level Receiving Empath 9.3, projected Level 10, Prime. Current Sending Empath Level 2, projected Level 4. Colony of Origin, L4 Cluster [18 years of age]

Zechs Marquise: Psi Student 5th year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Level 10 Receiving/Projecting Empath [approaching Prime Designation] + Level 9 Sending /Receiving Telepath, Projected L10 function. Finder function suspected, not officially registered. Country of origin, Luxemburg. [20 years of age]

Gabriella : Romany descent. Level 10 Sending / Receiving Telepath + Level 10 Receiving and Projecting Empath. Prime Rated. Training facility rumored to be Government Laboratories of the Prussian Republic deposed in the year AC 45. Age: Unknown [rumored to be approximately seventy four]. Oldest of the Prime Telepathic Empaths.


	35. Chapter 35

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 35/??

Author: Karina

Pairings 13x6 [eventual], 5xS [established], 3x4, Others undecided at this time.

If anybody would like to archive The Agency, just drop me a line.

Warnings: Extreme Alternate Universe setting. Aussie spelling, not much else in the early chapters though it will involve murder, stalking and possibly some colourful language down the track. Some Out Of Character depictions are unavoidable considering the alternate universe setting.

Rating: M [In Australia that would be mature adult 15+] Not sure with the new rating system. Rated for murder and violence as well as adult concepts.

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. That's about as plain as you could say it.

Many thanks to the wonderful ShenLong Deb for betaing this chapter for me.

//…// Thoughts

~/.../~ Telepathy

… Empathic Impression translated from emotion into symbolic words.

*…* Flashback / Memory

The Agency: Meeting of Souls

Chapter 35

Duo was far from happy and fervently wished himself elsewhere. Anywhere would do, it didn't matter so long as he was somewhere other than walking at the side of the Crown Princess of Sanc.

Him, Duo Maxwell; Sweeper brat. At home in the smelly confines of a working ship, getting down and dirty with machines whose smooth running determined life over death for everyone on board. Duo Maxwell, walking with a Princess as though they were the best of friends?

It seemed a cosmic jest on a grand scale.

It was just… wrong.

Right about now there was a lot to be said for the virtues of his small shared cabin on a Sweeper ship. Even with his too noisy cabin mate, who had the mistaken idea he thought about nothing else but getting into a shared bunk and screwing the daylights out of him.

Asshole.

But even that annoyance would be better than this.

When the offer had been made to him he had been only too pleased to have the opportunity to attend Tsuberov and advance his education, and his mind's talent… and get some serious down time away from the Nuisance, yes, always a capital when thinking of That ape with a 'ME' complex. The slime ball extraordinaire thought he was God's gift to male and female alike. What was the guy's name? McInty? McInly? Something of the sort, and it was unimportant, but just now sharing a cabin with that loud ultrapunk crazed fanboy in love with himself seemed the lesser of evils.

All he could do was hope they managed to cross the foyer and enter the elevators with no fuss or bother; and a great deal of speed. He wanted to escape any curious eyes that might be roaming and noticing things best left unnoticed. He was really uncomfortable with the idea of taking this young woman up to the suite, but how did one say no to her? Taking any female to a male suite would be a woefully bad idea, but a Princess?

It really was not done.

He was going to catch all sorts of shit over this!

He would be lucky if the Sweepers took him back.

She had proven herself to be incredibly persuasive… in fact how had she persuaded him? What was wrong with just him going to check on his friends? What did he think he was doing agreeing to escort her anywhere, let alone to the suite he shared with Winner and Marquise?

Why had he agreed? There was no excuse he could give that would make a whit of sense if someone stopped them and asked where they were going. Yes, the sooner they were out of the public eye the better… but, no, it was far better for him to just turn around and tell her to wait and he would go up and see what was going on.

There was really something wrong about him agreeing to do something so stupid.

"Do relax. It does not look as though anyone is specifically observing us, and looking worried will only serve to draw attention, Mr. Maxwell. We have every right to be seen walking together, it's the social thing to do."

Yes, right, that was right. Quite right. He had mastered the art of avoiding attention at an early age and he had perfected that art at Tsuberov, having to deal with the ever watchful Otto. That man had eyes in the back of his head and probably x-ray vision too!

Thinking of Otto, where was he? He had to be around somewhere and he would certainly want a 'please explain' for them leaving the reception room. Duo cast a cautious glance over his shoulder; almost hoping the man would materialise and rescue him from this doomed folly.

"Really, Mr. Maxwell, you are so tense!. Relax will you?" Sparkling blue eyes caught his, smiling at him with a wave of serenity. "It is perfectly acceptable for a young man to escort a young woman around."

And that was another thing; the constant politeness was getting his back up!

Princesses were expected to be polite, but so much politeness and polished vowels were giving him a headache! He really needed to get a grip on himself and he was about done with the whole Mr. Maxwell bit.

"Duo."

The Princess blinked, arching one regal eyebrow as she looked enquiringly up at him. "Duo?"

"My name is Duo. Being called Mr. Maxwell so often makes me feel like I'm ninety… or standing in front of Otto getting the riot act read to me… again."

A burble of delighted laughter escaped the Princess and she looked him up and down with a discerning eye, deciding she liked what she saw. He was so different to the usual young men who postured and presented themselves in such a false manner.

"I must say you are very well preserved for ninety, Mr. Maxwell, but in deference to your delicate sensibilities, I shall call you Duo if it is your wish."

Duo grunted softly, choosing to ignore her amusement and then reminded himself one should not grunt at a Princess. It would be considered uncouth.

"Its okay for you, Princess, but I'm the one who will cop the flack over this little escapade. Who will give you shit over this? You are the Princess after all, and I'm just the commoner being led astray. I'll be the one blamed for setting hands to the royal personage and I will be the one who gets expelled."

Come to think of it, he would get into trouble… but no; that was okay… wasn't it? His head ached the more he thought about it.

"Nonsense!" Relena elevated her nose a little, looking particularly prim and proper, and thoroughly ruined the effect by grinning wickedly. "I'll have you know there is a fund in Sanc which is dedicated to the sole purpose of supporting those 'commoners' you so casually class yourself as, who have been 'led astray' by the nobility. I'm sure I can get your name on the roll and pull a pension from it, but we might have to lie and say we had sex!'

Relena's delighted laughter peeled out across the foyer at the owl eyed look Duo turned on her. The Sweeper prodigy, who prided himself so much on his gift to shock, was left gaping at the young woman on his arm. And why had his headache lightened so suddenly? The pain was much eased and it was easier to think and appreciate the beauty of her in that moment, her blue eyes sparkling with genuine amusement.

"I'm sorry, but the look on your face is so funny! I must apologise if I have misconceptions about you, but I have heard so much on the grape vine about the infamous Duo Maxwell. You did not strike me as being the worrying sort, or of being particularly concerned about what other people think. Did I have totally the wrong idea about you?"

Duo sighed softly and decided 'what the hell?'. He could not deny that he did not particularly object to thumbing his nose at authority, and rules were only made to be stretched, warped, twisted and, if necessary, resoundingly broken. But still, what had possessed him to agree to this?

She was the 'Flower of Sanc', a Princess. A Crown Princess, next in line for the throne and no doubt she was 'daddy's little girl'! He was going to be slow roasted over glowing coals. He was a Sweeper brat, brilliant, handsome, full of himself… Okay, she didn't have to know why he grinned, time to stop grinning now, but that aside anyone seeing them together had to know mischief was afoot.

They had to be the original odd couple.

And whenever he set out for a little innocent fun Otto always seemed to know it and come looking for him. Wait, hadn't he just been hoping Otto would turn up?

Glancing quickly over his shoulder into the reception room he took a moment to scan the dancers and was not sure if he should be pleased or not that he failed to see the Security Chief. That absence was not particularly encouraging though, and he was not certain whether he wanted to see Otto or not.

Thinking about it was only aggravating his headache, pushing it back into the extremely uncomfortable pain zone, and deciding he was damned no matter what he did, Duo tucked Relena's arm through his and led her in what he hoped was a casual fashion toward the elevators.

"I think my reputation is a little overdone, actually and everyone has the wrong idea about me… which I suppose could be considered a good thing, although it does have its drawbacks."

"Drawbacks?" Relena enquired, smiling sweetly at an elderly couple entering the foyer from one of the five restaurants the hotel boasted.

"Oh, definitely drawbacks. The primary problem with my sort of reputation is that Otto is always keeping tabs on me; just in case I should do something he might frown upon. As if little old me would do anything to try the day of the illustrious Security Chief." Duo put as much injured innocence into that as he could. "We really need to get out of sight before he notices the dubious quality of the company I am keeping. This could totally ruin my reputation."

Relena stifled a giggle. "Should that not be the company 'I' am keeping?"

Duo flashed a megawatt grin at his companion and winked. "Nope. I can't have the guy thinking I'm trying to go up in the world by compromising a well to do young lady. I have my reputation to think of."

As he was relaxing his headache was easing and he was tired of wondering exactly why he was so willing to chance his position at Tsuberov. It was just too much of an effort to think about it.

"Oh, I do like you! Sweep me off my feet and take me to Sanc, we could be married by dawn! I could so tolerate being romanced by someone who can make me laugh!"

Duo rolled his eyes at her delighted giggle. She really wasn't so bad, far from the stilted prim and proper young woman he would have expected.

"I try to please, but I'm about as straight as the moon shuttle doing a figure eight to reach the Earth via Mars."

Blue eyes glinted wickedly and Relena blew him a kiss. "Even better! You are perfect! I would get to have an heir to keep everyone happy and I would do it without having to get married and actually sleeping with my partner."

It took a lot to startle Duo Maxwell, Sweeper Brat extraordinaire and well known lover of a good prank, but the Princess of Sanc had the opportunity to see the young man baulk, stare wide eyed at her and perform a creditable imitation of a gaping fish.

Tutting softly Relena graced Duo with a sunny smile. "Problem, Mr. Maxwell?"

Had he really heard what he thought he had heard? Those blue eyes were dancing with mischief and her pearly whites were more than obvious as she smiled at him. Duo cleared his throat, glancing quickly around the foyer as they neared the elevators and speared the Princess with a firm glare.

"You do realise that it is usually me saying outlandish things like that just to shock people into falling over their own jaws? You really are a danger to my reputation!"

The Princess hummed softly in delight, blue eyes laughing at him silently and satisfaction and genuine delight radiated from her.

"Then I have one up on you. Go me!"

Duo laughed softly, delighted that his companion was proving to be rather more surprising than he had expected. He had the distinct impression that Relena Peacecraft had many faces and he had had the privilege of seeing one side of her that few people would ever be graced with the opportunity to witness.

"You are not quite what I expected, Princess."

"I try to do at least one unexpected thing every day. It keeps me entertained amidst all of the formality and pandering that goes hand in hand with being a Princess. One really is just the same as everyone else, you know."

Just the same? Hell no, their social status stood at opposite ends of the spectrum and that reminded him of why they were going upstairs. Zechs Marquise. If anything Zechs' social status had to be considered even lower than Duo's and this slip of a girl was hell bent on seeing him.

"Whoa, time for a reality check here! Princess, last time I looked not everyone could lay claim to the title of Royalty and a bloodline that goes back to the year dot."

"Well, of course everyone can lay claim to a bloodline that goes back that far, Duo, otherwise I would be very lonely in this world, don't you think?"

Blink. "Huh?"

"Adam and Eve? The creation myth? We all stem from the same couple."

Duo blinked and shook his head slightly. "It's a dream and I'll wake up shortly and complain about it being a bitch of a nightmare."

Relena tutted softly and shook her head slightly, blonde hair bouncing in its stylised ringlets. "I assure you the blood in my veins is red, despite the 'blue blood' comments I hear all the time. Little red and white corpuscles, just like everyone else."

Duo blinked, eyeing the Princess for a long moment before he rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "I surrender. You remind me of the girl from the next ship over in the docking bay on L2 when we docked there last. I couldn't get a word in edgewise and she made no sense at all. So anyway, Princess, we need to get to the important bit. What's the big to do about talking to Zechsy in such a hurry?"

Relena's smile vanished and her eyes reflected her sombre mood swing, becoming blue pools of concern. With a small sigh she shrugged elegantly and met his gaze, clearly fortifying herself as though she expected…. Duo was not quite sure what it was he saw in her expression, but for a moment he expected to be the recipient of state secrets and that was when he realised they were standing in the middle of the foyer and had been for an inordinately long period of time for a casual stroll. Shaking himself mentally he inclined his head and they resumed walking.

"Since my arrival at Tsuberov I have become aware that every effort has been made, by certain persons, to ensure I do not have the opportunity to meet with Mr. Marquise face to face. When I first saw him I just knew what he was, or rather who he was, and I determined to meet with him. That was when the distractions, the extra work and the extra appointments that keep me so busy when I am supposed to be nothing more than another student attending Tsuberov, began. It does not take a genius to add up the clues, Duo. They don't want me meeting with Mr. Marquise and they are determined to keep me too busy to pursue the matter."

"Someone is trying to keep you away from Zechs? Sorry, Princess, but I don't understand why you would want to talk to him in the first place. He's a great guy and all but he's sure as hell not in your social circle, at least not until he can be certified as a T/E Prime and then he's in a pretty elite circle." Duo had a sudden thought and he sighed, groaning softly. "Shit, you haven't got the hots for him have you? This isn't all about you rebelling to get a common as mud boyfriend with prospects?"

Relena blinked, thought over the latter comment and glared Duo onto the back foot.

"Men!" Disgust dripped from the word. "Honestly! I shall not even condescend to dignify that with an answer! All the distractions they heaped on me did was guaranteed to make me more curious as to 'why' my very polite and formal requests for a meeting were refused. When my requests were phrased more along the lines of demands, and I was still refused, I decided to take matters into my own hands. Someone, I don't know who or why, has determined I am not permitted to see him and I want to know who ordered it and why. Above all I want to know where my cousin is placed exactly on the Family Tree, and why he was not presented at the Palace as a teenager."

Duo paused, staring in surprise at the young woman. "Whoa, wait a minute! Did I hear you right? Cousin? Zechs is your cousin?"

"Oh yes, Duo, you heard me correctly. The Cousins," Relena placed a definite emphasis on the word, making it more of a title, "are really quite noticeable, you can't mistake them, particularly some of the boys. Zechs looks remarkably Peacecraft, he has the exact shade of Peacecraft hair and eyes, and his bone structure is spot on. There are varying shades of that pale blonde amidst the Cousins, of course, but he is just that exact shade of Peacecraft blonde, you know? Sort of white gold and silver. The curious thing is that I have no memory of ever having seen him around the palace. He has to be one of my Uncles son's, or maybe one of my Great Uncles son's, or perhaps even a grandson… Duo?" Relena trailed off, noting she appeared to have lost her audience from the glazed look in his eyes. "You look a little… lost?"

Lost? Hell, the girl had babbled on about cousins and uncles and great uncles and grandsons… Hell yeah, he was lost. Princess or not she was not making a whole lot of sense.

"Erm… Not meaning to be nasty or anything and please take this in the kindest possible way, but…have you got all your ball bearings upstairs, Princess? I'm thinking you have lost a few in passing. Zechs? The very same Zechs I know and share a suite with… is a Peacecraft… cousin?"

The young woman appeared to take no offence to the suggestion she was somewhat lacking in her mental capacity, in fact she smiled before sobering and staring into Duo's eyes, her voice quiet and serious.

"I assure you I am quite sane, Duo. He has to be a Peacecraft Cousin and the fact that he is here and not in Sanc is one of the topics I wish to discuss with him. I will eventually be Queen in Sanc and it will fall to me to be responsible for managing the Cousins and their future. As such I should have been informed there was as one amongst those who share my bloodline who had the potential to be a Prime in any of the psi fields. Your friend has Peacecraft stamped all over his face so he has to be a cousin; the bloodline is just unmistakable."

"You are really sure about that?"

"I grew up with a host of these children, both older and younger than I, and I know one when I see one. I need for Zechs to tell me who his mother is and his father's name and, if he knows the reason, why he did not grow up in Sanc where he belonged. The friends I have made here could tell me little about him, but they did say that to their knowledge he grew up here, in the city. Do you know if that is right?"

Duo guessed he looked more confused than he had before from the expression on her face. He really did not understand any of this; particularly why she seemed so upset at the idea Marquise had not grown up in Sanc.

"If he is a cousin why should he be in Sanc? Why should he have grown up there?"

"Because that is where all of the Cousins are, Duo. We keep close attention focused on our direct bloodlines; we have to for obvious reasons."

The young woman looked around at their location, aware that they were, once again, standing in the foyer with their heads almost touching as they whispered to each other.

"I do not wish to be rude, but this is really not the place to be discussing what is quite a sensitive matter. It is rather more public than I feel comfortable with whilst airing family laundry and those we name as Cousins, and I mean that with a capital C, are most assuredly classed as 'delicate' family laundry. Can we please go upstairs?"

"Ah, yeah. That would probably be a good idea."

Duo took the last few steps in two long strides and pressed his palm firmly to the glowing sensor pad, glaring at the touch pad in disbelief when it continued to glow a dull green and the doors did not open before him. He pushed his palm once again to the pad with the same result. Nothing. Beside him the Princess stirred, looking at him curiously, waiting. She was a guest of the hotel in that she had come in with the Tsuberov party for the evening, but her palm print was not registered to be above the reception level and she knew it would be useless to try her palm print to open the elevators.

"How annoying."

"How bloody convenient for somebody." Duo muttered under his breath, slapping his palm against the pad yet again and once again receiving no response. "Damn! These things just don't break down, you know."

Relena frowned, looking about her and trying not to look worried. No alarm was sounding; no one appeared to be interested in them… She motioned to the elevators to their left where the glowing level indicators and arrow demonstrated the mechanics were working.

"The other two elevators are working. All we have to do is give them a moment to drop off their passengers and then call one. When we finish upstairs we can report the fault to management."

Duo grunted softly, staring at the sensor pad for a long moment before he moved to the keypad next to the first of the elevators in the set of three which accessed his floor. A quick glance at the floor indicator and he slapped his palm to the pad, waiting for it to light up to register the call and he glowered when the pad remained dark.

"Oh my." Relena murmured. "That was unexpected."

Unexpected? It was unheard of! The elevator continued to rise as he watched, but the call plate remained green. When the level indicator remained lit but stationary Duo slapped his hand to the pad once again, glaring at the device with narrowed eyes. Being interested in computers and the mechanics of machinery that required computers to work, he knew something of the system which operated the hotel's network. He made it his business to investigate every computer system he was exposed to, and he knew the odds of two of the three elevators failing were astronomical…. Unless...

Duo grunted softly and strode to the third elevator, slapping his palm against the access pad and was not in the least bit surprised when the sensor pad remained the dull green of its waiting mode. Growling a curse under his breath he moved to the next elevator in the row, one that serviced the adjacent wing of the complex to the central wing inhabited by Tsuberov's students. There was nothing soft about the snarl that escaped him when it lit up bright greed with a soft and pleasant chime, acknowledging the summons.

"Well… that is odd." The Princess remarked, chewing on her lower lip. "How annoying."

"Otto. It has to be Otto. He must have been watching us and he's gotten Hotel Security to disable the elevators! He's in with the Security guys here at the hotel."

Relena looked anything but happy and glanced around the foyer yet again. "Why should he do that?"

Duo blinked, staring at her, wondering if she had heard any of his earlier comments. It appeared Princesses suffered from selective hearing, though it was probably not polite to point that out to her.

"I would think he noticed you were with me and, no offence Princess, but he sure as hell would not want you upstairs in an all male suite. Quite the scandal that would be and that man is smart enough to take the quickest option to stop us. He's on good terms with the security here and all it would take is one phone call."

"Oh, tosh!" Relena huffed, pouting a little. "One is not amused and nothing improper has happened. A girl, even a Princess, is entitled to have friends!"

Duo snorted, glancing at the young woman. "Again, no offence Princess, but you are not just any girl, and it is rather late for unchaperoned social chitchat in a hotel suite."

Relena blushed prettily. "Yes, well… Regardless of that, I do intend to engage in conversation with Mr. Marquise and get some answers to my questions. Further, I have no intention of returning to the University until I am assured he is alright. He looked quite dreadful when I left him with Quatre."

"You are bound and determined to get this done tonight?"

"I am."

"Then I hope you don't mind the stairs, because it's rather a long walk."

Relena looked at him in confusion, glancing at the elevator where the door was now opening for them to enter. "Stairs? Why not simply ride this elevator to the floor above your suite and then walk down the stairs one flight?"

Duo sighed and turned his back to the elevator, motioning to the doors leading to the stairs further along the lobby. He could not say he was particularly fond of the idea of taking the stairs, but they really had no other choice.

"Because of the way the hotel is constructed. The stairs from the level above my suite service the next wing and are not linked to the wing housing our suite at all. The two wings of the hotel join at an angle and require their own access stairs, being independent from each other. These three elevators service the five floors in the middle of the main building, the Tsuberov suites being on those floors. That set of three elevators," Duo indicated the elevators with an inclination of his head, "service the adjoining West wing which overshadows the west facing of the central wing; it does not link to the central wing at all beyond the first floor. If you are accommodated in the East Wing you have to go to the far side of the main building to gain access. Like the West Wing the East Wing is also built above, but separate from, the central core of the building. It's a pain in the arse design that won awards, but I personally think it is a piece of crap. Anyway, if we can't use one of these three elevators, and obviously we can't, then we have to climb the stairs… or not go up at all."

Was he hopeful she would refuse to use the stairs? Hell, yes. His headache, which had lessened considerably, now throbbed back into existence when he thought of not ascending.

Relena sniffed, frowning at the inconvenience of it all. "Then we take the stairs. You should see the number of staircases in the castle at home. I am certainly not afraid of a few steps, Duo."

Duo snorted softly in amusement. The Princess was feisty and he had to admit he rather liked her.

"Okay then, the stairs it is."

"Would you mind explaining to me just where you think you are going, Your Highness?"

The low voice was deep, curt and very much unamused...and it came from directly behind Duo and quite effectively froze the pair in place.

Duo winced, only too familiar with both the voice and the tone. He had had many occasions since arriving at Tsuberov to hear that voice and know it's every nuance. Relena blinked, staring down at her shoes before drawing in a deep breath and spinning around to smile graciously at the Tsuberov Security Chief.

"Why good evening, Otto. What a pleasant surprise it is to find you here."

———————————————

The glass door whooshed into place behind her and Noin found herself alone with the Agency representative charged with greeting her. She was a young woman perhaps a year or two older than Noin herself though in this day and age, with the advancements in genetic technology, appearances could be deceptive. There was an air of competence, of command, about the woman and she was dressed as neat as a pin from the carefully coiffed brown hair to her sensible but fashionable footwear.

The woman had the good looks of the aristocracy of the region, perhaps German, perhaps Austrian or Russian; they were all of the same base stock and well interbred over the millennium of civilised settlement. They had been interbreeding until it was difficult to tell one's country of origin until they opened their mouths; the distinguishing characteristics usually came down to accent and dialect.

There was an air of competence and command about this woman which added years to her physical appearance. That too could be attributed, at least in part, to her breeding. The children of the aristocracy were force fed responsibility and performance, the requirements of their birthright, from the cradle. It aged them beyond their physiological age, ushering them into positions of prominence and rank at relatively young ages.

"Prime Lucrezia Noin, I am Anne Une, Operations Director for the Agency. Welcome, and thank you for coming so quickly." A polite nod was offered in lieu of a hand shake, the standard protocol when greeting a psychic.

"Director Une. It is a pleasure to meet you."

Une was well practised in the protocols of greeting a Psi, Noin noted, making no overture to touch, leaving such gestures up to the unknown Psi to offer. Telepaths, empaths and certain other psi active individuals had problems with physical touch, though Noin was generally not one to forego physical expressions. She had no idea what this woman's talents might be, Une could well be a telepath or empath, in which case she would not offer the usual handshake as a greeting as a matter of course. Noin could decide to leave the greetings to ambiguous nods or take the greeting one step further on the social ladder.

Meetings between unknown psi's could be a delicate matter, rather like a dance when the partners had never met and must feel their way to a trust in who would lead. Sometimes it could be a most delicate shifting of position to get the right movement forward.

Noin inclined her head in greeting and after a carefully timed three second pause offered her hand, knowing it was the gesture that was important. It would not bother her if the touch was refused; it merely meant the woman facing her was sensitive to the spill over from a person which could be magnified through physical touch.

Une stepped forward and offered her own hand to accept the touch, a faint smile curving her lightly painted lips. There was little make-up in evidence on that rather pretty face, just enough to accent the delicacy. They touched hands for no more than two seconds, the contact brief but symbolic, acceptable to both.

Her level six talent was far from as volatile as that of a Prime whose telepathic or empathic sensitivity might easily be overloaded. Noin personally liked to get a sense of the people around her, and since this woman would be working with her she wanted to know what to expect. Besides, when you spent as much time with the dead as Noin did the touch of warm living flesh was more than welcome, even if she was a medium level telepath.

Une was tightly shielded, as one would expect from a person in her position. Noin sensed cool efficiency, perhaps a touch of loneliness, the briefest flicker of the impression of a face through the shields but nothing more.

"We shall make short work of the necessary procedures and have you out of the terminal in short order. Are you hungry?"

"Famished."

The prim young woman with the too serious brown eyes inclined her head toward the door. "I suggest you permit me to have your luggage sent to your allocated accommodations, and while that is being done I will take you to dinner. I will drop you at your assigned accommodations later."

"That would be fine."

The thought of something decent to eat reminded her of just how hungry she was and that she had been neglecting her proper diet whist working the previous case. She would need to make a point of following her scheduled dietary plan to pick up her nutrients. Working for an organisation like the Agency, where they managed a psi's needs on a daily basis with due care, would have her back to her proper regime in a few days. If she was not mistaken about this professional young woman, and she was generally an astute judge of character, they would be eating at an establishment which catered to the very specific dietary requirements of a psi.

Une, true to her word, made short work of the official paperwork for Noin's arrival, whisking her luggage through Customs through a priority inspection and arranging for the luggage to be sent ahead to Noin's accommodations.

"I have made arrangements for you to stay in an apartment complex run by the Agency specifically for high level Psi's, particularly for those employees with a telepathic or empathic talent. Your suite will be fully shielded for your comfort and if you require anything full service is available 24 hours a day."

"Sounds good." Noin murmured as they swept out of the terminal and to the side of a plain, nondescript vehicle parked in the VIP reserved slot.

Une pressed her hand to the driver's side of the vehicle, sliding her fingers under the handle and Noin caught the low chime before the door unlocked. Opening the door Une reached into the vehicle and tapped a finger to a key on the dashboard, the door on Noin's side unlocking immediately in response. As she settled into the front seat Noin took note of the leather upholstery, the intricate arrangement of the dashboard and the red light flashing on the dash. Une noticed the alert light at the same time, settling into her seat and reaching to flick her fingers over the buttons beneath the light.

"Une."

"Activity update, Commander. Prime Khushrenada has ordered an alert for Prince's Park, instructing the park be searched and the CCTV camera feeds to be commandeered."

That was unexpected news, Noin decide, though only the brief arch of a single perfect eyebrow revealed such. Une was quite adept at keeping her reactions low key.

"The reason?"

"The Prime detected the presence of a suspect in the general area of the park and is hoping for a possible identification to be made from the footage. Agents are searching the park with psi detectors at the present time."

A finger tapped for a moment against the black skirt she wore, tapping in a slow rhythm for a few heartbeats as the woman considered her response. Noin wondered if this was the case she was to work on, or if it was one of possibly hundreds the Agency was handling.

"And the Prime?"

"Has retired for the evening, Ma'am with….One moment, please Ma'am, a communication from the Prime's bodyguard is incoming…"

Une took the opportunity to activate the laser restraints; first making certain Noin was comfortably seated then turned on the ignition.

"Commander Une?" The radio lit up a fraction of a second before the voice of the com officer filled the vehicle.

"Go ahead."

"My apologies for the delay, Director. We have an update from the Prime's security contingent. He is attending to a matter related to the case, is in no danger and is under surveillance."

"Acknowledged. Keep me informed of further updates. Une out."

Slender fingers flicked over the com link and Noin watched Une frown, the fingers of one hand pressing briefly to her temple and Noin guessed a headache was developing. She would have liked to question the woman about the Prime, she was hoping to meet the man after all, but she was not feeling confident enough to question the woman's reaction.

"That insufferable man is supposed to be resting." Une sighed, resting her head back against the headrest for a moment before straightening up and guiding the car into the flow of traffic leaving the terminal. "I will end up sicking Sally on him if he does not slow down."

Noin smirked, though she was careful not to be seen to do so and there was an interesting enough view through the window. So the Duke was an insufferable man, was he? He worked too hard, perhaps? As far as Noin could see it spoke volumes for his character, and Une's, if the Director of Operations responded with concern to the activities of her agents. It would be a pleasant change to have work colleagues both informed and accepting of the strictures binding high talent psi's.

"I know a quiet little restaurant with decent food that is not likely to be overrun at this hour of the evening. We are not all that far away, so it will not be a long drive in this traffic. I understand you have only just completed the case you were working on?"

"Yes, and I was only too pleased to accept the reassignment. It was not a… pleasant… case to be working. To be honest, it was one of the worst I have dealt with."

"Serial killings are never pleasant." Une murmured. "I believe this one was particularly complicated. I suggest you get a good night's sleep, it should help you recuperate and I will have the standard medical kit on standby if you feel you could use a sedative to help you relax. I will have a driver pick you up at nine in the morning and bring you into the offices, and someone waiting to walk you through Security. You will find your suite is fully stocked, but if you wish for anything in particular just call. You can pre order breakfast for a preset time to be delivered to your door and, if you take the sedative, it might pay for you to log in a wake up call with the staff."

"Thank you, I am sure I will be quite comfortable. How many dead am I to contact?"

Scintillating pre dinner conversation, but she really would prefer to get the unpleasantness out of the way before the meal. She had seen enough diners around her put off their meals because of 'shop talk' and she was rather hoping to enjoy her meal and put some emotional distance between herself and her last case.

"At the present time we have only the one body and that is exactly how I wish to keep matters. The subject is an unknown; even the genetic registry is producing no matches to assist us in identifying him. I am hopeful we might still garner identification from that source; we are looking further and further afield in an effort to find some matching records, even possible sibling or parental DNA. It would be much easier if you could identify him for us and hopefully find out from him what you can about his attacker."

"How did he die?"

Une sighed, shaking her head slightly. "I am a kinetic and the thought of doing something like that… It would appear the victim's heart was stopped by kinetic talent… and then his bones were pulverised to dust in order to fit him into a mid sized refrigerator."

Noin winced. "His heart was stopped? So it is possible he might not be aware he is dead, if he was taken by surprise."

Une took an off ramp, taking them out of the heavy traffic and into a quieter area where the night was flooded with neon lights illuminating the area which hummed with nightlife. Noin watched as they drove through the busy street, noting the number of couples walking arm in arm and hearing the thumping beat of night clubs despite the car's insulation.

"We are uncertain as to the exact circumstances surrounding the death at this time. We suspect we have a high talent psychic, a kinetic with a strong telepathic or empathic secondary talent, responsible for the death. We suspect this individual is bordering on crisis. A full report on the case to date will be provided for you in the morning when we have our briefing. I could have brought it with me, but I thought you might appreciate the night off to recuperate after your flight."

"I could do with a good nights sleep." Noin admitted.

"For reasons I will go into at tomorrows briefing, we need to keep this case low key. The last thing we need right now is for the press to get a hold of any details and start a panic by claiming we have a killer psi on the loose. The sooner we locate the individual responsible and curtail their activities, the better for all of us."

Noin frowned as Une turned off the main thoroughfare and drove into a narrower street where there was more discrete lighting and far less people. If the media should cause a panic by becoming rabid over a single death caused by a kinetic… people were like sheep sometimes, following the leader, stampeding in a panic when there was no need.

With the bill before the ESUN House of Representatives that would further ease the strictures on the psychically gifted, they did not need a public outcry over one bad apple in the barrel. Yes, she could see why Une was hoping to keep the matter discrete and expedite a quick resolution.

"I shall do my best to gather whatever information the deceased can give you."

Karina Robertson 2010


	36. Chapter 36

//…// Thoughts

~/.../~ Telepathy

… Empathic Impression translated from emotion into symbolic words.

*…* Flashback / Memory

The Agency: Meeting of Souls

Chapter 36

Chasing down a specific memory which originated deep in the past of an individual was not, by any means, an easy task to accomplish. The younger the subject of the procedure was at the time of the events they sought to examine, the harder it was to retrieve those memories. In this instance Treize had no idea how old Zechs Marquise had been when the particular events recurring in his memory originated.

How clear the viewing of those memories might be they would not know until the memories were accessed. The means employed to deal with the memories would then depend on how clearly the past could be recalled; on how efficiently they could remove the pollution that was a child's perceptions and isolate the pure event.

Treize took the time to settle his thoughts, gathering himself to a calm point from which he could work efficiently. He would accomplish nothing if he was not centred when he began and he needed to remain balanced throughout the retrieval process and examination. Knowing there were to be observers to what would happen did nothing to settle him.

He was no longer a student whose future hung on the observations of his instructors and he had worked many times before with Gabriella observing him. It was nothing new to him… but this time the subject was Zechs Marquise, for whom he held a certain regard, and there was some unknown 'somebody' in the link compounding his unease.

That was really the sticking point, he acknowledged. This unknown body linked through Gabriella's perceptions who would see and hear everything filtered through Gabriella. Treize did not like working with unknown psychics and by his very nature, being raised in the intrigues and power struggles of the family that had birthed him, he did not give his trust easily.

The unknown observer both annoyed him and alarmed him.

Gabriella had her fingers in innumerable pies. She played games, working in the highest circles of power that ruled their society and she had designs of her own for the future. She knew much of what happened behind closed doors in the ESUN, and he had to wonder just how many of the games being played in the world's political landscape and business circles Gabriella had instigated… and for what purpose?

He needed to be calm and settle within himself the question of the unknown observer. He had made it plain to Gabriella he was far from happy with the presence she screened, but…

Calm. Tranquil shades of softest blue interspersed with calming greens…

One could solve nothing if one became agitated.

Dwelling on the unknown would serve no purpose and it was not fair to Marquise for him to divide his attention and focus. The younger man needed his assistance. These memories inducing such debilitating responses must be dealt with. There should never again be a recurrence of memory to send him over the edge and toward the gulf of a nervous breakdown, something that was a certain recipe for insanity to an empathic telepath of prime level.

How far back must they delve to resolve the memory? How pure would the memory be, polluted as it was by a child's perceptions, fear and the years that separated the 'then' from the 'now'? Locating the memory, viewing it, examining it in detail, resolving memory into fact… it all took time.

There could be no headlong rush into the unknown.

He had no idea how long the session might take, but dwelling on Gabriella and her 'guest' would not bring about resolution. Treize had made his objections known to both Gabriella and her interested party, and, regardless, he had been refused the grace of any real explanation. He had made his dissatisfaction plain and still his concerns had been rejected. He could back right away; he SHOULD back right away and approach Zechs Marquise to perform the session at another time. A time when Gabriella and her companion were not peering at them.

Assurances of non interference in the proceedings had been given but he was far from happy. It was a breach of privacy issues to begin with and though Zechs knew Gabriella was there, watching, he did not know about that 'other'.

~/Is needful, this is Gabriella begging, Stubborn Childe. Not often does Gabriella beg, knowing this you do. For safety… for safety of him this thing is needing doing and Gabriella will be keeping control be assured. No interference. No questions, simply observing we will be./~

~/If that is all a simple report will do!/~

~/Ah, giving no ground are you! Difficult child! Explaining will I be, but later for this explaining. Understanding Gabriella is asking."

~/Well understanding Gabriella is not going to get! It is a breach of privacy!/!

~/Knowing this Gabriella is. Helped write rules did Gabriella, forget that you should not. Extenuating circumstance this is. As senior Prime is Gabriella telling you needs to be done it does."

But she would not tell him why it needed to be done with a witness. The infuriating old woman had called in her rank to use against him, but he was not defeated yet. He would have as many layers of protection as he could manage to apply and if she did not like it… well, they would cross that bridge when it came time. They were due for a long and potentially colourful discussion.

~/Consent is given by one who pays fancy schooling bills. Let lie, Naughty Boy. Let lie./~

Treize hesitated, considering the lightning fast psi 'whisper' that had brushed his mind. It was a salve to his abused sensibilities concerning the privacy issue, he knew, but could he believe it? The delivery suggested Gabriella was up to her arm pits in intrigue she did not desire that other 'party' to know about.

Marquise's Guardian? Had she found him? No, now wait… 'by one who pays fancy schooling bills…' that sounded… off. What was the old Gypsy up to? But he knew there would be no answers to any questions he asked, at least not now.

He had put forward as many protests as he could and had learned little more than how to think up new questions. If he did not do this then someone else would be brought in to supervise the session and he was unwilling to allow another psi to perform this task. But he was a stubborn bastard and was not done yet in making his thoughts crystal clear on the matter. She would be unamused with him, but then, he was quite unamused with her for forcing this breach of privacy on him.

~/Zechs?/~

He could sense the unease in the younger man and he offered up soothing thoughts, projecting an aura of calm and control in a bid to ease Marquise.

~/Are you ready to begin?/~

The flavour of the thought revealed the nervous tension in Marquise and his uncertainty. Treize was not surprised, it was not something lightly done, this riffling through old memories to dredge up something decidedly unpleasant; and perhaps Marquise might yet decide not to pursue the matter, at least for tonight. That might give him a bit of time to work on Gabriella and permit him to find out more of her companion and why she would flaunt the rules she herself had, as she had so recently reminded him, brought into effect for all psi talents to follow.

~/Almost. I have a request./~

~/From me?/~

He could sense, if not see, the frown from Marquise. Tsuberov was a brilliant instructional institute but in his view they needed to work on a few areas. Building the self confidence of their students was as necessary to a sound working mind as training the talent that marked psychics apart.

~/Indeed. To be honest, my friend, I am in awe of the shields you are capable of fashioning. This shield you have erected is well in advance of what was taught to me, and like all Primes in our field I have very strong shields. I am hopeful you will consent to instruct me in how to fashion and polish this diamond brilliance into my shields. I have honestly never before encountered shields of this level. I request, for the duration of this session, that you erect and maintain a shield about the working we are about to do. Do you understand what I intend you to do?/~

Oh yes, he had indeed upset Gabriella! He could feel her flash of ire, but he was not concerned. She would still be able to watch and listen, to share the memory through his mind, but the younger man's talent would ensure no trespass into his consciousness would be possible.

~/I'm not sure that I do./~

His thoughts betrayed his uncertainty over exactly what it was Treize was asking of him, and the confusion at the need for a third ring of protection… and the entire procedure itself involved in the pursuit of old memories. Treize was not surprised. What they were about to attempt was not the sort of exercise a novice would be taught, not withstanding Tsuberov's exemplary training program. It was an advanced procedure and rarely performed, taught to Treize by the Primes and not by his instructors during his training.

His instructors at the Psi Institute had taught him the theory of such an exploration into another person's psyche, but the actual technique was demonstrated and supervised by the T/E Primes soon after he had begun his year long 'finishing' under their supervision. In the interim years following that initial instruction, he had had occasion to advance the technique considerably beyond what he had been taught by his fellows.

Gabriella would have to trust him as she so blithely insisted he trust her.

~/Making it difficult are you, Naughty Boy. Not too big and old are you for Gabriella to paddle backside… at my age enjoy it I would!/~

Lord above that woman was a menace! He was trying to work here!

Marquise could 'feel' the additional shields Treize erected within the protection of his own diamond like shields. A third set of shields when two sets already existed would seem somewhat odd and would require a plausible explanation. It was as well he could provide one.

~/I am hoping, with your assistance, to fashion a ring of protection specifically around the area of your memories we are to work on. Your existing shield will keep us secure from any outside influences. The shields I have erected will constrain Gabriella to a set position within the contained space inside your shield. This will keep you and I free from any possible distraction from her presence./~

~/Yes, I understand that, but… why a third shield?/~

~/For isolation. Within this ring of protection there will be just you and I, and the memory we will identify. It will be isolated from other memories to lessen any possible leeching effects from other events of note in your memories. I will maintain a link to Gabriella through the shield, but it is my wish to keep her isolated from the pure memory we will be seeking. In my line of work as an investigator I have learned the value of an uncontaminated crime scene, and I want no impressions from anyone else to cloud our view. No outside influence can be permitted to be absorbed into the memory and, since you are psi capable and have the most incredible set of shields I have ever encountered, and it is your memory we seek to access, the final shield would best be erected by you./~

That gave Gabriella pause, he noted, but he chose to ignore her for the moment. The younger man had to be the focus of his attention, not the pair listening in.

~/I though the idea was to stop the memory from returning?/~

~/It is, have no doubt of the intent of this procedure. In order to stop this memory from interfering with your life in the here and now, we must first 'see' it. One can not deal effectively with anything if it is not understood first, so we must experience it and then we pull it apart so we can understand it. Only when we understand it can we secure it so that it does not again rear it's ugly head in so dramatic a fashion./~

He could feel the reluctance of the young man to explore, and view clearly, what had been a terror to him for so many years. Treize reached out, a warmth of emotion, enfolding Marquise within its protective folds and picturing a hug, enfolding the man within a warm, purely psi embrace.

~/To deal with this memory we must first understand it; to understand it we must first see it. It is the only way things can be settled once and for all./~

~/ I… suppose. I'm a frightful coward./~

~/ Not at all. We all face the demons of our past with trepidation. You know now this thing is not from outside you, that your shield, wonderful as it is, will not keep the terrors out… they are already in./~

~/Yes. I understand that now./~

~/You will not be alone, Zechs. I am here for you, to help you. You need to remember throughout our investigation that you are not facing this on your own. Having company always makes life's trials that much easier to face. Remember and reach for me any time you feel the need. I am here. Gabriella is also here and if you need her I will reef her through the shields, be assured of that. When you are a Prime you are never alone./~

~/They won't… Even after this… You think I will make a Prime ranking?/~

Treize could feel his smile emanate outwards and fill this purely psi awareness with a steady warmth and certainty.

~/Zechs Marquise, you are already a Prime. I have no doubt the remaining portion of your accreditation will follow. Dealing with this memory so that it does not impact on you in the future will only speed along that process./~

~/I am afraid Tsubverov's instructors will not agree. I'll be pushed back to the beginning of my training so that they can find out where they went wrong. I'm… not safe for anyone to be around./~

Treize felt Gabriella's mental growl directed at her mysterious companion, though he missed whatever comment might have drawn the snappy rejoinder to 'shut up' and 'the Primes will handle any and all training of their newest member'. It pleased him and somewhat eased his ire with her presence. That she defended Marquise against this unknown and claimed him as belonging to the Primes eased a few worries he had been quietly entertaining.

~If blame is to be accredited to someone, then it is to Tsuberov it must be adhered for misdiagnosing these instances. Your trainers and evaluators failed to understand what it was that was bothering you, but really no one is at fault. It is unfortunately one of those things which happened and now must be faced and dealt with. You are not alone, Zechs. You will find we Prime's can be annoying bastards and we NEVER go away once we find something we count as belonging with us. Another Prime has been found in our rather exclusive field, and you will find we will not simply up and vanish on you./~

~/That would… be nice./~

Nice? Yes, it was, but there were drawbacks too! Sometimes family could be an annoying problem one might wish to escape… but one could not escape when one was a Prime amongst a family of Primes.

~/You might not think it so fine when Gabriella pokes her striking Gypsy nose into your affairs one time too many./~

His resigned sigh seemed to echo about them and he could feel the old woman's high amusement. Deciding enough was enough Treize focused on the younger man and deftly drew his attention with a touch to the serious business they needed to attend.

~/We need to focus on the task at hand. Centre for me and erect the shield around us. Do not be concerned with Gabriella, I will maintain the link with her through your shield. Just allow me to merge within it…/~

Marquise might entertain doubts about his own skills but Treize was impressed with him, and he could feel Gabriella's approval as a diamond brilliance began to fill his awareness within this isolated psychic sanctuary. Quickly and with a minimum of fuss, seemingly without effort the shield formed, enclosing them within another layer of protection.

It was a sound performance and Treize wanted to know just how Marquise managed to produce that brilliance. He promised himself he would somehow arrange a time and place to engage in a controlled session with Marquise and attempt to build shields of this calibre himself… and perhaps test just how solid the shields were in keeping out unwanted distractions.

~/Thank you. Now, can you see the marker for the memory? It will be visible in some fashion and you should be able to see it, to feel it and recognise it./~

Treize could see it as a shadow, veil thin; a shadowed area within the enclosure they had constructed to contain it. As had happened in past instances with the decision to investigate and remember, to stop fighting the memory, the out of control surges of memory that had panicked Zechs had dissipated. The surges of chaos had reduced to a shadowy wisp of its former ferocity.

~/ Yes./~

~/ Good. Now I want you to tighten the area contained within your shield. Still give us a little room, but further isolate the memory… Good. I think you could well be suited to this kind of work. What we are going to do now is float over to that memory. Don't focus directly on it, just allow yourself to move around, to float freely within this confined space and we will find ourselves moving closer in no time./~

The blonde's reluctance was obvious to Treize, but he could feel Zechs utilising every relaxation technique he had been taught to relax… and it was working. Very slowly they were drifting in this confined space and eventually they had to drift close to the shadow of a time long in the past. In matters of movement had they made a push to reach the memory it would have eluded them, riding the bow wave of their movement. On this plane, most often, the indirect method of approach worked quickest and best.

~/Gently now. It will not harm you. This is a memory, it is not the here and now, and you are not alone. Reach out your perceptions toward the shadow and reach toward it… feel it's texture, its flavour…/~

Treize could have taken the lead and enveloped Zechs within his awareness, reaching out to merge with the shadow, but he wanted Zechs to be the one who initiated the process. These memories of traumatic event were always clearer if the originator of the memory took the lead, and Treize was quite happy to be the guide. Marquise was a talented individual and only if things looked to be teetering toward a direction he did not approve of would Treize move accordingly. For now it was best if it was Zechs who investigated the memory.

~/ I… can't feel anything./~

~/That's alright. Now that we have calmed things down by acknowledging the memory is from within, rather than something from beyond you, things are reverting to a more normal placement. The memory is faint because it is from a time long in your personal past./~

He took the time to skim the lightest of touches over the surface of the wispy veil his 'sight' revealed to him. Not deep enough to 'look' within, but more along the line of a caress, testing the timbre of the substance that made up the shadowed veil.

~/I would think you were quite young from what I sense. When we are young we feel things intensely and when we panic, for any reason, that intensity only escalates. An adult's perceptions see things quite differently./~

~/So… what do I do?/~

~/ I want you to visualise yourself as a substance not unlike how you perceive this memory. Become something similar, not the same; keep yourself markedly different from the memory as I do not intend you get lost within it. I want you to try slipping into the centre of the disruption that is the memory. How do you see it? A distortion of the forms about you, a shadow…? What does it look like to you?/~

~/A… sort of… like material I suppose. Very thin, almost see through… and black, like a shadow./~

~/ Not unlike how I perceive it, then, that will help in my giving you instruction. We will not need to dance around descriptions. It is a very intense memory to still be present 'visibly' in this state. Because it is visible to us it gives us a reference to focus on. Think of yourself as being made up of a similar material, a slightly different shade of shadow, however, you must maintain that distance. You should be a substance able to touch it; to merge with it. I will be with you and I will assist in maintaining a safe distance for you from that memory. You will be a spectator looking in, seeing it from the eyes of the child who lived it; but you will not be lost in that child's emotions./~

Zechs' unease escalated the closer he came to the shadow and Treize flowed forward, presenting his presence, keeping solidly 'there', a part of Zechs, an anchor point to his psyche.

~/Its alright. Ease into it, draw the shadows about you and allow it to seep in. You have to remember it for us to deal with it and to remember it you must touch it… become a part of it./~

The instant before the initiated 'touch' could seal, Zechs shied back, his psychic persona unmistakably trembling from even the fleeting contact he had initiated. Treize was there, steadying him, offering instant comfort. He was, truth to tell, pleased with the young man's reaction, though alarmed by it at the same time. That Zechs had reacted indicated the memory was viable, fresh enough for them to see good detail when he merged with it.

~/ I'm here./~

~/It… I don't… want to feel THAT./~

Treize ignored Gabriella's push against his shields. He had warned her he would permit her to watch and listen, and that he would not tolerate input when he was working. She could just sit back and allow him to do what he was trained to do. In the performance of his duties as an investigator he had delved into the blocked memories of victims of violent crime, and he had an uncomfortable feeling that was exactly what he was dealing with here.

The reaction Zechs had displayed was all too familiar to him; he had witnessed it before in pursuing cold cases relating to adults regressing into childhood memories. Memories affected by violence. Marquise might not consciously recall a violent crime in his personal past, but his subconscious was another matter.

~/ How much do you trust me, Zechs?/~

~/ I… trust you./~

~/Good./~

He emanated confidence and stability, projecting it into the sealed space about them, filling the space with it and feeling it gradually calm Zechs. He was, more and more, falling back onto work practises, but in this instance, with this particular subject, he had an enormous advantage in the pursuit of an elusive memory. Zechs was a trained, almost accredited Prime level psychic, and he did not strike Treize as being a shrinking violet.

In no previous case where this kind of work had been required had Treize had the luxury of working with a strong telepathic empath. It was clear to him the memory needed to be breached and the innocence of the long ago affected child coloured it with more terror, fear and… something else. There was something there, in that momentary contact, that Treize could not touch with sufficient clarity to understand.

~/If you will trust me and consent to a deeper merge between us, we can go into this memory and you would be able to 'see' it from within a protective perception. You can, if you should be willing, experience the memory through my eyes, through my psi sight, and maintain a distance between you and it./~

~/I… How would that work?/~

Gabriella clamped hard on that other awareness, he could feel her tighten, and though his shields were not tested in any way he could feel her throw up an additional shield of her own to contain that other mind. He appeared not to be too happy, Treize mused and then paused. He? Yes, definitely a He. But he would examine that contact later.

~/It works by looking through your eyes, with your perceptions… then through the eyes of the child who witnessed something that terrorised him. I will take the brunt of the emotion of that time and filter it, becoming a buffer for you so that you do not have to fear being overcome by it. Do you understand what I mean to do if you consent?/~

~/Yes./~

For what seemed like a long time Zechs considered the suggestion whilst Treize waited, ignoring Gabiella and her choice of colourful invective. Treize had known the Gypsy Prime would not be pleased with the idea, but she was not feeling what he was from the younger man. He had felt this reaction before in witnesses needing to access locked memories of terrible events. Those memories had produced less than desirable repercussions for the witnesses, and he would not have Marquise suffer those psychological problems when it was easy enough to avoid. On those past occasions it had taken him hours of careful, painstaking work to stabilise them psychologically, subduing the refreshed memories' terror to something more tolerable.

If Zechs was willing to initiate a deeper level merge than Treize had been capable of performing with non psychically active individuals, then there should be no need to piece back together a psyche shattered by horrors of the past.

~/I… I don't… It's not…/~

A flash of the Dean of Tsuberov intruded into their sealed space, a fleeting memory of him speaking of requiring his Guardian's consent before they could work on a particular training procedure. Another flash, this time just a voice admonishing Zechs for acting without thinking against the tenants of the Institute without permission and due protocol.

~/I am well aware it is not the accepted form at Tsuberov to have a psi who is not on the teaching roll or listed to contact your mind directly initiate a merge, but we have done so now on a number of occasions. What I am asking for is your consent to take this existing state of merge to a deeper level. To permit our senses of sight and hearing, on a psychic level, to merge. I will remind you that I am a Prime, fully qualified to do this work, and that Gabriella is watching. There would be a witness and Gabriella could step in at any time if there is a need. Nothing of an improper nature could be perpetrated during the contact that she would not detect. I will take whatever protests Tsuberov's Board of Governors cares to dish out, your Guardian's protests as well, but you need to be aware that they will also be receiving my formal complaints over their mismanagement of your condition. Do you understand that?/~

~/Yes./~

~/I am a registered Prime and I have done this work before in the course of my professional capacity with the Agency. It is part and parcel of my job, Zechs./~

~/I… trust you./~

Treize smiled to himself. ~/ Thank you. Is that a yes? You can have more time to consider this deeper stage; all the time you wish for. You need to be confident in your decision before we progress further./~

~/Y...yes./~

~/Yes?~

~/Yes. I… want to go ahead./~

~/You don't sound as certain of this procedure as I would like and I will not initiate the deeper link if you have any doubts./~

He could feel Zechs easing himself further away from the veil of shadow and his unease rising the longer he maintained proximity to the shadowed memory. Thankfully Gabriella had fallen quiet within the link. She would be sure to let him know just how unamused she was with him, and what the hitch-hiker she carried thought of the entire incident he did not dare to consider. He would face their censure later; right now his concern was for the young man shifting uneasily in his awareness.

~/I don't want to feel this fear… but I'll have to, won't I? Eventually. If I ever want to be free of it, I have to relive it./~

~/Yes./~

~/I don't remember it, you know, I just… know… its not good./~

Empathic reaction to the emotion contained within the memory. Treize could help damp down that feedback, that was a large part of the merge he requested they initiate. Buffered by Treize damping down the emotional gradients Zechs could better 'see' through his childhood eyes.

~/If we initiated the deeper merge between us, you can watch the events take place from the perspective of an onlooker. Me. You, in effect, become third person, maintaining a distance to give you ease. There is no need for you to feel the full force of the child's emotions; but you must remember that you are not a child now. For the initial contact with the memory you will be divorced from it, but to thoroughly investigate it you will need to step 'closer' and experience it. That does not necessarily have to take place in this session./~

~/We would need Tsuberov's… should have Tsuvberov's consent… or my Guardian's but…/~

~/It would be good to gain their combined consent and we can certainly discontinue this session now and go through the protocols to hold the session in the laboratories at Tsuvberov. That is entirely up to you, Zechs. When this procedure is done, whether it is now or later, it is your decision, but be aware that it has to be done if you would be free of those flashbacks. You don't have to do the work with me; you can request any of the T/E Primes up to, and including, Gabriella. Any of us. I am the junior Prime after all. You can have a dozen checks and balances in place before any investigation begins, the choice of when, who and how is your decision./~

~/Tsuberov would assign…/~

~/ I will interrupt you there, Zechs. Not just anyone delves deep into the psyche of a Prime level candidate. Only a Prime will do this work with you./~

~/I admit I… would prefer it to be you. Or Gabriella./~

Treize waited, feeling Gabriella watching them, knowing she was prepared to return immediately should Marquise call for her to be the one to delve deep into his subconscious to interact with this memory. Treize could feel Gabriella's acceptance of the cautions he had given Zechs, of the demand this work be supervised and performed by a Prime T/E talent. Treize had given every appropriate warning to Zechs, hiding nothing, giving him the opportunity to think and demanding he understand that the choices to be made had to be made by him.

Tsuberov might have brilliant trainers but they did not have T/E Prime psychics on the payroll. If Zechs chose to call a halt and wait for monitored and more controlled conditions, then that was alright with Treize. He would assist Zechs in creating a containing field around the memory so they would not lose it, and it would not be free to haunt his waking or sleeping mind.

He would not think less of the younger man for his caution. It was sensible, a sound caution to have.

~/ You. I want… would prefer you to do it./~

Treize ignored Gabriella's reaction, she was not forbidding him to make the merge, merely requesting his assurance he knew what he was doing and was confident of the outcome. It was not Gabriella asking for the reassurance, but that other person she kept shielded. An assurance He could not escape her containment to disrupt the proceedings flowed along their link and Gabriella retreated back to watching and waiting.

~/Why?/~

The simple question startled Zechs, but Treize was not of a mind to continue until he was certain of why Zechs had chosen to continue.

~/Why? I'm sorry..?/

~/Why did you decide to choose me over Gabriella, or one of the other more senior Primes in our field?/~

~/Oh. Because I know you know what you are doing. I know you and I know Gabriella, but I do not know any of the other Primes. You are a trained investigator and you have assured me you have done this kind of work before. You have looked into people's pasts, into their memories, and you know what you are doing. I know I don't know you very well, but I feel that I can trust you./~

Sincerity seeped through the contact between them, assurance that Zechs had made the decision for sound reasons. Marquise was not a fool and it was clear enough there was something in his past that was traumatic and potentially a crime. It could be anything, perhaps nothing illegal had occurred, merely a child's over reaction to something that happened near him. Whatever it was it was something a child's fear had locked away and, from time to time, it emerged to demand attention only to be locked ruthlessly away by an older consciousness that misunderstood what it was.

Gabriella's acceptance of the reasons given was clear and Treize guessed she set her observer in his place with her usual aplomb. He himself was satisfied with the response, and in the trust he sensed from the other man. He could work with Zechs and he would be sure to see the younger male had no cause to regret his decision to trust him.

~/Well then, I accept your reasoning and Gabriella has given her consent. She will act as witness to the proceedings and testify on our behalf when Tsuberov, and your Guardian, begin to squeal. I have to ask you if you wish to continue this session tonight, or if you would prefer to rest and resume either within the laboratory centre at Tsuvberov, or perhaps in the laboratories at the Agency?/~

A moments uncertainty flashed through his awareness and Treize got the impression Zechs blushed, though why he should Treize chose not to pursue. He was not here to delve into the working mind of the young man, merely to settle the matter of an out of control memory flash.

~/If you would, I prefer we begin now. What do I need to do?/~

~/Very well. This should be relatively easy given you are a close match to me on the psychic level. Your psi potential should ease our way somewhat. We will begin by matching our senses, and the easiest sense to match would have to be the sense of 'touch'./~

Treize pictured a hand, palm raised, fingers open, as though he was inviting a hand shake.

~/You need to remember what it is to touch a person's hand. The feel of their skin contacting yours, of the ridges lines and curves of their skin… the warmth of their skin. You need to remember what it feels like and allow that awareness to suffuse your consciousness. Let it become everything to you; that feeling of warmth in the clasp of hands, what it feels like for you to be touching, physically, a friend and what it might feel like for them to be touching you./~

Zechs sighed softly and Treize caught a scent of what he identified to be irony. ~/It had to be touch, didn't it? What's the one thing telepaths and empaths avoid like the plague?/~

Treize laughed softly within their isolated plane of existence, genuinely amused, and enfolded the young man in a cocoon of warmth, offering up his own memories, scant though they were. Memories from the time before he had developed the higher side of his talent, before he felt the unwelcome rush of thoughts and emotions from those who touched him… from before he had fallen under Gabriella's protective wing.

~/I know what you mean. If there is anyone who would know what it is to be isolated in a crowd, it is an empathic telepath who desires to remain sane. Remember touch and then we will remember what it is to scent life too./~

It was there, in their memories. The feel of warm flesh touching warm flesh, of calluses on a hand clasped in his, of the roughness of fingerprints on a hand grasped in his. A scarred palm on his own smooth flesh. The memories were there and with them other sensations began to filter in. Glimpses of people and places one would recognise, things one had witnessed and the other now shared, trading back and forth on a deepening level with increasing confidence. Scent came gradually, the faintest smells of cooking food, stable stink, garbage rotting in slums, snatches of overheard conversation, laughter, cursing…

~/You are wonderfully responsive to work with. Our fellow Primes will love you./~

Again that sense of a blush, of a pleasure in being recognised, and a shyness of nature developed in being isolated from others. A burgeoning psi talent forcing distance between him and others, the distance bringing with it the feeling that he did not belong…

~/Shall we proceed, Zechs?/~

Treize refused to have him laid open to the unseen observer with Gabriella, and he took their shared senses in hand and faced the shadowed veil that had become fainter in the time they had been focused elsewhere. How much time had actually passed since they had merged?

His thought or was it Zechs'? Treize dismissed the concern as unnecessary. They would work together as long as they were fit to continue, or until the memory was exposed and examined, and the terror taken from it. It was there, the memory was here, right in front of them. They need only merge with it and see it… hear it. Discover it.

~/Ready?/~

~/Yes./~

With full confidence in his own ability, and the sensitivity and strength to be found in the mind linked to his, Treize merged them into the shadow, becoming a thin wisp , spreading out their awareness to pick up the strands of deeper darkness, drawing them to each other, drawing them together…

There was a fleeting sensation of falling, an illusion, and he was pleased Marquise showed no disorientation. It was more a sense of movement than of actually falling and it was brief, far shorter than Treize had experienced before with long repressed memory subjects.

~/I am hoping to go back, if we can, to a glimpse 'before' this memory. If I can nudge it a little to give us some sense of where you were, perhaps gain an insight into how old you were, it might help us pinpoint the event. Do you have a problem with that?/~

Trust flowed back into him, trust and denial of concern. Zechs was curious, observant, trying to follow exactly how he drew them through the veil, thickening the shadowy wisps into something darker, stronger, more detailed. The darkness was nothing more than the manifestation of the gulf of time, where the memory had been cut off from the conscious mind. Again it was nothing more than an illusion, a reference for their senses to recognise and for him to work with. They needed to sink through the layers and seek out the conscious memories, if possible easing past the memory itself and securing a hold a little further back. Such might not be possible.

How old Marquise had been when this memory related to the events in his past that they sought to touch, would dictate how far back they could venture before the trauma occurred. Bypassing the memory to glimpse a prior time might not be possible in that he had a feeling Zechs was very young, but he would try. It would help clarify the memory, give it a basis from which they could work to examine the trauma itself by having a secure base to fall back to when Zechs inevitably became stressed.

Treize was as startled as Marquise when the gathering darkness went from comfortingly black to something else entirely. Total absence of light, not the sensation of falling but of suffocating darkness… and the screaming!

It was solid about them, enfolding them, suffocating…airless… black. A momentary flash of voices subsumed by the screaming…utter terror and loss.

Treize was quick to enfolded Marquise in a buffering layer for protection, standing as a shield between his perceptions and the screaming darkness. Zechs was stiff within his protection, trembling, and if he had had eyes in this psychic plane they would have been wide with reaction.

~/What? What is it? I… don't…/~

~/That was rather an unexpected surprise./~

He kept the thought mild, carefully unconcerned. Zechs was nervous enough without his reaction being aggravated by Treize's personal response. He had no idea what had given birth to that memory, they would investigate it to be sure, but for a moment he wanted to absorb the big surprise.

According to the records Treize had viewed, Zechs Marquise had not been psi active until he was approaching his adolescence, as was normal with most young psi's, but what he sensed in that moment of utter darkness and terror was the signature of a very psi active child and it was most definitely Zechs Marquise.

Karina Robertson 2010

Notes

Treize Kushrenada : Level 10 Sending/Receiving Telepath + Receiving and Projecting Empath at Level 10. Prime rated. Agency Operative contracted term of 5 years with 2 years remaining. [25yrs of age] Training facility: Psychic Institute Munich Division.

Zechs Marquise: Psi Student 5th year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Level 10 Receiving/Projecting Empath [approaching Prime Designation] + Level 9 Sending /Receiving Telepath, Projected L10 function. Finder function suspected, not officially registered. Country of origin, Luxemburg. [20 years of age]

Gabriella : Romany descent. Level 10 Sending / Receiving Telepath + Level 10 Receiving and Projecting Empath. Prime Rated. Training facility rumoured to be Government Laboratories of the Prussian Republic deposed in the year AC 45. Age: Unknown [rumoured to be approximately seventy four]. Oldest of the Prime Telepathic Empaths.


	37. Chapter 37

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 37/?

Author: Karina

Pairings 13x6 [eventual], 5xS [established], 3x4, Others undecided at this time.

/…/ Thoughts

~/.../~ Telepathy

The Agency: Meeting of Souls

Chapter 37

There were recorded cases where children of decidedly young years had displayed developing higher psi potential than most. Some of these children displayed psychic potential up to their fifth or sixth year of life and then, for some reason science had yet to identify, their potential diminished, never to redevelop. Other children would seemingly lose the potential only to have it re-emerge when they broached adolescence.

The children whose talent re emerged with the physical development into their teenage years tended to mature into high range Psi's, and for Zechs to be revealed to be one of those talented individuals was not really a surprise, given the extent of his maturing talent. What did come as a surprise for Treize was the discovery Zechs had been a psi active child when his file clearly recorded the instances of psi awakening on reaching puberty… but nothing was registered in his development of psi activity for his formative years.

Something was definitely not right and Treize determined to study the records when the occasion suited to look more closely for early indications of emergence. Gabriella would likewise want a re examination of the records and if she was not satisfied Treize expected her to have the orphanage staff interviewed. Gabriella did not particularly like mysteries.

A child gifted with an active empathic/telepathic talent would have been an absolute nightmare to raise. There was no way those who had had custody of the child could miss such a thing. The sensitivity of the individual child's talent would denote how stable the child would have been emotionally and psychologically, and any resulting effects on the family unit would likely not be subtle enough to mistake. The active potential would determine how well he or she reacted to the interaction of people in the immediate proximity on a day to day basis.

The orphanage records he had viewed made no mention of anything which might have indicated early potential, but after this nights activities it was beyond doubt that Zechs Marquise had been psi active as a young child. Might there be other records the Agency had not been made privy to? The potential he had sensed in the child Zechs, made Treize more than a little curious about the parents and how well, or poorly, they had coped with their child prodigy's daily emotional state.

Children could be notoriously temperamental after all.

/This will be rather interesting and definitely informative. If he was psi responsive at any sort of range beyond a few feet, it would have been an indication as to the adult depth of his talent. He could very well have driven his parents and any siblings to distraction. Perhaps even to extreme measures./

Was this an indication as to why Zechs had ended up in an orphanage, though it would not explain why he had failed to display any talent during his tenure there, at least not until his teenage years. No, something was not right about the whole thing and there was really only one way to find out more.

Gabriella's interest was well and truly piqued, he could feel her attentiveness. He wondered what that 'other' who observed through her psi 'eyes' thought of the revelation. He and Gabriella both wished to know more but this was neither the time nor the place to pursue such a line of questioning. For now he needed to concentrate and return to the real work, namely giving Zechs the attention he deserved and delving into the riddle surrounding his incidents of recurring memory.

Even as he considered the possible implications of Zechs having been psi aware as a child, Treize generated soothing warmth into the darkness, standing as buffer against the child's screaming, shielding the younger man's mind from the full impact of it. He was gratified to see that after the initial shock Zechs was steadying, curiosity more than the edge of fear evident in his awareness. Marquise was quite aware he was not alone and that security could be found in Treize's presence.

~/Why? Why would I scream like that?/~

His 'voice' was a whisper, infused with the essence of his shock, elements of fear, hesitancy… and burgeoning curiosity. This was no frightened child but a curious young man who was confident in the presence of a Prime talent; a young man with trained talent of his own and no small degree of courage.

~/What frightens a child this much? I don't know, Zechs, but with your assistance I intend to find out. Do you have a… How are you with darkness?/~

For the child Zechs to scream with this degree of terror, and given the utter absence of light in the memory, Treize could not help but wonder if Marquise, in his adult persona, had a problem with the dark. Given the depth of the child's terror Treize would not be at all surprised if Zechs did have some level of phobia… in fact the surprise would be if he was 'not', at the very least, uncomfortable with an absence of light.

Treize could almost 'see' the blush that seeped through their link and there was clearly the mental equivalent of a shrug accompanying that 'blush'. So, as he had surmised, Marquise was at least uncomfortable in the dark and perhaps it was more than him being discomforted.

~/I'm… not too bad really, so long as its not really dark. At night its okay if I can at least see my hand in front of my nose, so to speak. I… Once I got locked in a cellar at the orphanage and…. and it wasn't… pretty. I couldn't find the light switch and it was a total absence of light. I sort of… well… Lets just say the entire orphanage knew about it./~

Gabriella stirred within his awareness but Treize ignored her for the moment, focusing instead on Zechs and what went unsaid. He could plainly feel the distress in the younger man at the mere mention of that past incident.

~/For the moment I will not ask how you came to be locked in a lightless cellar, but I would like to hear how you found yourself in such a situation if at some later time you would elaborate? Zechs, your reaction to a lack of light in your immediate vicinity as an adult is understandable given you had an experience that produced this extreme reaction as a child. Dealing with it, understanding it, will go a long way towards easing your discomfort./~

~/I really am a walking phobia. I'm sorry./~

~/To be honest, Zechs, I do not know of a single Prime talent in any of the Psi criteria who isn't, as you so quaintly term it, 'a walking phobia'./~ Treize blithely commented. /~It's in our sensitive nature, don't you know?/~

His flippant dismissal drew a flashing warmth of amusement and Treize was content with that for the moment. Zechs did not need to feel there was anything wrong with him that others did not, in turn, experience. The Good Lord knew some of the T/E Primes were, to put it nicely, eccentric.

~/ Now then, Zechs, we are not going to make much sense of anything just sitting here listening to this screaming. We must determine where you were as a child since 'dark' is not of much help. It is absolute darkness and, from the 'feel', what I can sense of the child's awareness, suggests to me a small space. Centre in for me and we will attempt to nudge this memory just a little. If we can go back in time, just until we reach your previous impressions, it should give us some idea as to what happened./~

Treize resisted the sigh at the instant response to his request. Zechs was beautifully responsive to work with, falling easily into working mode and merging with Treize who deftly 'sidled' around the screaming child, and then they were sinking delicately deeper into memory…

—-

"Shhh, little one. It's alright now. No need to cry. Where is your mother? Johnny, there's something wrong with this kid. There has to be some reason she's screaming like this."

—-

Zechs flinched and Treize lightened his touch, backing away from the memory, uncertain why Zechs had reacted. The voice in the memory was male, deep, and with the sound had come a glimpse of what Treize suspected was a blue uniform. Just a glimpse of blue, and a flash of something silver and the 'feel' of being held in strong arms.

~/She?/~

Treize could not resist the snicker, or 'nudging' Zechs and letting his amusement flavour the atmosphere surrounding them. A little friendly teasing never hurt in his view.

~/I guess you were a pretty kid./~

~/Oh, please!/~

But there was enough amusement in the rejoinder to relax Treize and he was well enough pleased with the reaction. Assured Zechs was willing, Treize brought the memory out to the fore for examination, capturing the glimpse of 'sight' as well as sound and concentrated on clarifying it, trying to bring resolution to the image.

~/A badge of some sort?/~ Zechs offered, as keenly interested as Treize in identifying both the uniform and the design of the badge.

/~I think so. Perhaps… police?/~ Treize mused.

There was, Treize mused, something about the child's reaction to the 'feel' of the strong arms that held him against… yes, against a broad chest. The impressions were steadily solidifying the more they were studied and Treize could almost feel the long ago embrace, and he was equally as aware of the reaction of Zechs mirroring the child's awareness. What struck Treize the most was the child's discomfort in that embrace and it took a moment for him to realise what it was that bothered him.

The child was not accustomed to being held by a man.

The young Zechs Marquise was not in the embrace he recognised, not in the arms of his mother. It was too strong an embrace, very different from the touch of his mother and…

~/I don't understand. Why was it obvious, so clear, that I had psi talent when I was screaming my head off and now… In this memory there is no real trace of psionic potential?/~

Absorbed in the child's reaction to the arms embracing him Treize had not noticed, but Zechs was right, he realised. Passing his awareness over the memory once more the absence of psi potential was irrefutable. While he had been screaming there was no doubt about the existence and suggested level of psi talent, but now there was no indication the child had any psionic sensitivity.

/Interesting./

Treize considered the contradiction for a long moment and came to the conclusion that the 'nudge' he had given the previous memory had shifted them a little in the wrong direction. Not that a forward shift explained the lack of psionic talent.

~/I think in the memory we have progressed past the screaming, to a future time, instead of regressing to a point where we might understand what eventuated. With your permission, it may help us to better understand what took place if we follow it a little further?/~

He took the spike of interest as silent agreement and Zechs made no objection as Treize slid their co-joined awareness back into the memory. For now it was not important, but he would certainly give consideration to the child's reaction to being held by a male. There were many thousands of single mothers in the world, but there was something odd in the child's reaction to the embrace that he could not quite put his finger on. Perhaps it was simply that the psi element had been taken out and the child's perceptions were changed because of it.

He felt Gabriella stir within his awareness and he knew she was equally as curious about the memory.

—

"Look, the best thing to do would be to call in social services. They'll take the kid and see she's examined and make sure there's nothing wrong with her. I've spoken to the neighbours and they say they haven't seen the mother since yesterday when she walked to the store early in the morning. They heard the kid crying this morning and when no one answered the door they called us."

"Hush now, little one, its okay. We'll sort this all out. Something went down here, that's for sure. You had better call in a forensics unit to go over the place, probably homicide too. There's enough blood splashed around here for at least one person to have been seriously injured, if not killed."

"And nobody except a little tyke locked in a cupboard and screaming her head off to explain it. Okay, I'll put in a call to the station for back up and help from social services."

—

Treize felt the distress spear through Marquise and was quick to ease them out of the memory, offering what comfort he could. There might not have been anything in his records pertaining to such an incident but Treize had no illusions about what had happened. Violent crime. He knew the 'feel' of an area following a violent crime and he recognised it in the eyes of the investigators. For a moment he had looked through the eyes of the child and met the eyes of the men who watched him. He could read it in the child's distress, underlying everything.

Something dark and deadly. Extreme violence had taken place in that room.

~/Zechs?/~

~/I… Keep going. It's okay. I need to know what happened to her… to my mother./~

He had courage to face it like that, but Treize was not going to allow this to continue if he did not think Marquise could cope. Over the course of his career he had seen too much, witnessed too many reactions resulting from deep memory scans to mistake the distress. While they might learn something from continuing with this memory, it was equally possible they would learn little more than they knew already. He was not going to put Zechs under stress to discover nothing more of any use to them.

~/I could take us back into the memory but… Zechs, listen to me carefully, okay? This is what I do for a living and I've overseen numerous deep scans and investigations in the past; enough that I know how this would have progressed from this point. It is, to be honest, unlikely the child you would know much of the procedure and investigation that took place from that point in time. Social Services would have taken you into custody and, while you would have been questioned, they would not have explained matters to you. You were upset enough as it was without someone asking you questions. It is fact that your mother was not found and a relative was not located who could care for you. You would have been placed in care, perhaps in a foster home for the duration of the investigation, at least until it became clear they would not resolve the case./~

~/I… would like to know more. If they… what they found, whatever it was. I believe I went through a succession of foster homes before I was placed in the orphanage I grew up in./~

~/We can investigate. We can certainly look into the records to glean whatever information we can, but I would prefer to make a more constructive use of this time./~

~/I would like to know… more. If you don't wish to go forwards… Can we go backwards?/~

Disappointment, a touch of fear, a widening gulf that was a glimpse of the uncertainty lingering long over his past, the sheer fact he knew nothing of who he was… No, Zechs would not want to give up easily. He would want to know more, despite the very real fear.

~/We can certainly try./~

Really, Treize decided, given the discovery of the potential for a violent crime having taken place, Zechs was taking it quite well. There was no lack of courage on his part and a deep curiosity. Zechs wanted to know more and he was willing to push at his memories to find that information, and that willingness to push was something Treize knew he needed to be careful of. He would need to call a halt to proceedings if he thought Marquise had had enough and it would be he who made that decision, not Zechs, who would ignore his own needs in the thirst to know more.

Wrapping his awareness once again about Zechs, Treize eased them into the memory, holding firmly to the awareness of the younger man, matching them precisely to the memories of the young child, pausing and then, ever so gently, easing back…

—-

"Hush now, sweetheart, what is all the noise about, hmmm? Ma'ma's here. And what is it that's upset us now, hmmm?"

Satisfaction… Desire for sweet flavour, tingling on tongue in anticipation.

"Ah, so we want a piece of apple, do we? Well, that is easy enough, my lovely. Now then, to get our apple, we have to tell Ma'ma what we want, don't we? Come on, Milli, we have had this talk before. Apple, Milli. See? Now you say it. Apple."

Reach, thrusting arms eagerly forward, reaching for the treat… Frustration surging as it was moved beyond the reach of his grasping hands.

"Uh huh, no, Sweet Cakes. No, Milli, you know the rules. You have to say 'apple' to get it. Apple, Milli."

Flash of irritation, scowling discontent and demand. Fingers flexing, reaching, demanding satisfaction and rising temper subjugated gently but firmly by a warm pressure.

"No, my dearest, one must not do that. Such a temper you have, sweetheart, and that is so very dangerous. No, Milliardo, if you want the apple then you must talk to Ma'ma. Apple, baby. Apple."

Flash of honest temper, frustration welling… demanding. Again the soothing caress that warmed physically and defused and redirected the anger, turning it into something else.

"When you say 'apple', you can have it."

~/Apple!/~

Flash of frustrated amusement and caress of gentle warmth. Something else that was not understood, but the piece of apple was placed gently into greedy fingers and it was deliciously sweet.

"I suppose that will have to do, but it is hardly a gracious way to speak to your mother, Milli. Such a temper you have."

Satisfaction suffused him, along with the sweetness of the apple and with the glowing warmth surrounding him all was well with the world.

"What am I to do with you, little love? Oh, Milliardo, what are we to do?"

The warmth mingled with something he did not like, something that threatened, making her someone other than his one constant in a changing world. He did not like it when this 'something' troubled her.

"I think we have stayed here too long; longer than we have ever remained in one place since I left home. I don't want to go, but really, I think there is no choice. I'm sorry, baby. I hate my job, but that is neither here nor there as it puts food on the table and lets me buy my greedy little boy his favourite treats… and it gives us enough money so we can move on. Another piece, baby? More apple?'

Surge of eager agreement, hands reaching out as quickly as the emotion filled him.

"What do we say?"

Frustration surging but the warmth was there, surrounding him, and the apple was there too, he could taste the sweetness of the piece he had eaten… grudging surrender.

~/Yes./~

"Pardon?"

~/Yes… please./~

Amusement, gentle and warm. Everything was shades of warm when she smiled.

"Much better. We must always remember the magic word, mustn't we? Here you are. When you finish I suppose I had best get you ready and we can see about buying some new clothes. I think a nice pretty dress would be best. It's not so hard to lay a false impression while you are still young enough not to fight me."

Sweet. Crunchy. Satisfaction, ignoring the coolness that infiltrated her warmth, the strange 'something' that bothered him and bothered her no less. He did not understand and all was safe and wonderful while she was close.

"This should be the last time we need to move for a while. It's been months since I sensed anyone looking for us, Milli. If we put a little more distance between us and home then I think we should be safe enough."

~/?/~

"Oh, it's alright, sweetheart. Don't mind your Ma'ma. I'm just talking to hear another voice. You really are going to have to learn to talk properly. You need to talk like everyone else does, so that we can blend in. Not everyone will be able to understand you this way and it will draw attention to us. We really need to blend in, Baby."

~/Apple!/~ Hands thrust forward, fingers wriggling, laughing.

One pale golden eyebrow arched magnificently and blue green eyes centred on him, gentle disapproval weighing against him and expectation.

Pouting… He laughed, clapping his hands together but still she looked at him and he knew what it was she wanted, there was no mistaking it. There would be no treat if he did not comply.

~/Apple. Please./~

"Much better, Milli."

He watched as she stood, moving to the cupboard as he claimed his prize happily, watching as she moved from cupboard to cupboard, tidying up.

"Now when Mrs. Harris comes today you need to be a very good boy. Please don't frighten her again…"

Sudden alarm impinged on his awareness, the warmth becoming chilling as she stopped. It was almost as though she had gone away though she stood across the room from him, and in alarm he dropped the apple and clambered to his feet, tottering as fast as he could, running to grasp her skirt.

~/Ma'ma? Ma'ma?/~

Her warmth was back, filling him, but there was that darkness and the cold too, stronger, distracting her and making her seem to leave him. He did not like it.

"We will go to the shop now, I think, Milli. I'll just get your coat and my purse and we'll be off shall we?"

—

Treize backed off from the memory, drawing them clear of the veil and taking care to guard his thoughts. His attempt to take them back before the memory of the darkness had succeeded all too well, and he felt that he owed the younger man an apology. He dared not hope said apology would distract Zechs from the contents of the memory but, now or at some other session, inevitably, this memory would have surfaced.

~/ I'm sorry. That was a little… a touch too far back, I think./~

~/Yes…Too… far… /~

Zechs was distracted and Treize knew a great many thoughts would be passing through that young mind. He could sense the curiosity seeping into his awareness along with a rising uncertainty…No, there would be no distracting Zechs.

~/She was… scared./~

Treize could only agree, momentarily distracted by the awareness of Gabriella and her unknown observer and the suddenly increased intensity of the screening shield Gabriella had erected. He could sense the irritation rising from her, but nothing he might use to identify the one who accompanied her, and who now seemed intent on irritating her. He wondered who the man was and how long it would be before the old Gypsy put the fellow in his place.

He turned his attention away from the shielded disagreement, from the growing argument -and he was sure they were arguing. He would love to eavesdrop in the hope of learning something of interest, but his concern was not this unknown person but the young man who was having his world considerably shaken by long forgotten memories. Whatever the man wanted of Gabriella, Treize knew she understood he would ignore any attempt from her to interrupt the session for any reason other than the safety of Zechs Marquise.

What was of more immediate concern to him was the nature of the interaction between mother and child revealed in that memory, and Zechs' reaction to it. His most striking observation was that not once in the time they were immersed in the memory had he sensed the child speak with his physical voice. The young Zechs had exclusively used telepathy and empathic nuance to make known his desires.

There was also the small matter of the child's name.

What, Treize wondered, was going on here? Was Zechs Marquise not, in fact, Zechs Marquise?

~/Millie. Milliardo. I don't understand./~

Treize was quick to focus his attention on the young man and offer him support, strengthening their ties and offering comfort. He had no more idea than Zechs what was happening, what this memory was revealing, but if they wished to know… to unravel the knots of confusion, they would have to go back into the memory.

It struck Treize as being curiously disjointed. The time spans and the orientation of the memories contained in the isolated veil were all wrong, confused. It worried him.

~/ Nor do I, Zechs./~

~/Am I… Zechs?/~

Yes, well it would have been too much to hope for him NOT to have noticed that. Treize could offer little in the way of assurance, he needed to do some concentrated investigation to unravel this knot and there simply was not going to be enough time in this session.

~/Your mother was a telepath. A strong one, I would venture to say./~

~/I… didn't speak, did I?/~

Here at least he might be able to offer some small reassurance. With high talent telepaths, young children, it seemed more natural to use the innate talent of the mind rather than learn to physically speak a language.

~/Not so unusual with a high talent child in a family of telepaths. I have heard of it happening in a number of strong telepathic and empathic talent families. No infant is born with the knowledge of language and parents have to decipher the needs of their child as best they can. For a child born with active telepathic or empathic ability, when those talents manifest at a very young age, why use vocal cords when it is more natural to project their needs on the emotional level? Telepathy would develop before vocal speech. Of course, there are sensational drawbacks./~

~/There are?/~

~/ Take one very young infant, misinterpret their desire and enter a temper tantrum. Likely the entire neighbourhood would hear the child crying on the physical level not just the psi level. And an unrestrained child who is angry…/~ Treize grinned. ~/ That would be neither pretty nor peaceful./~

~/I… Yes, I suppose it would be… unfortunate for all concerned. She curbed him… Me, I mean. She curbed me./~

Treize had, in fact, noted that control and been more than a little impressed by it. The young mother had had total control of her talented child's reaction.

~/She was quite good at it too. I doubt the neighbours would have been thrilled to find themselves reacting to the whims of a child. A young parent must govern a child who is too young to understand the need for control./~

~/But later… I don't understand, Prime Khushrenada. I was psi active in that memory but… There was no trace of psi talent when the police came./~

The young man was rattled if he was resorting to the formal Prime Khushrenada, Treize mused. Understandably, true, but he was not, at the present time, in the mood to tolerate the formalities and niceties of etiquette as taught by Tsuberov.

~/Less with the Prime Khushrenada and more with the Treize, if you please. I will feel as ancient as Gabriella if I hear much more of that from you. There is only a few years difference in our ages, after all, so at least in private its Treize. I am well aware of the formalities that Tsuberov observes, Zechs, which are all well enough in their place and this has nothing to do with Tsuberov. Now, I can not deny there are some… anomalies… revealed in this memory that need to be pursued. I have no answers for you at the moment and to find answers we would need to push on; to pursue the memories contained within this veil./~

~/ I…suppose so./~

~/There is no need to pursue the matter further at this time. We can stop now if you wish and resume at some other time./~

~/No! No, please. I… Now, if you would. I… I need… I don't think I could 'not' find more out now… If you understand what I mean? I didn't… I thought I had no memories of my mother. As much as I would try to remember her, something, anything about her. The earliest memories I have are of the orphanage and the last of the foster families I was with for a time./~

~/Foster families?/~

~/I hired private investigators to…./~

The mental impression of a shrug finished off the thought and Treize was careful to keep his reaction neutral. There was no need for Zechs to know that he already knew the young man had dealings with Private Investigation companies in an effort to track down his mother.

~/The investigators said I was placed in a succession of care homes, but I was never in them for long. They gave no reason for it, but I got the impression that I didn't seem to have… Well… We didn't seem to deal well with each other is the impression I got. In the end the authorities decided the state run orphanage would be the best alternative. I was told one of my past foster carers said I was 'anti social' and that I had very little grasp of the social graces and absolutely no concept of sharing./~

~/Zechs, few 'only' children have much of a grasp on the concept of sharing./~ Treize offered a mental grin at the younger man's obvious embarrassment. ~/I was an only child and I was a selfish little bastard, or so my cousins take great delight in informing me at every opportunity. It is possible some of your difficulties might have stemmed from the fact you were, at one stage, an active psi and, for whatever reason, you lost that medium of communication. You would not have understood why and resented it, and you might very well have been singled out as different if your speech patters were well behind others your own age. So… do you wish to continue?/~

He sensed a protest coming from Gabriella who, it seemed, thought this session should be curtailed, but Zechs set himself to continue and without any assistance or guidance from Treize, pushed himself into the veil of memory. Treize, with a mental hiss of disapproval, thrust himself in after, grasping control quickly.,

~/Zechs!/~

~/Sorry! Sorry, I hadn't meant to do that. I just thought I… I wanted to continue and… and I just sort of… fell into it./~

~/It's alright, no harm done, but curb your curiosity and remember to maintain control. Now then, where have you pushed us, I wonder? This… is not the same place… not the same house. The 'feel' of the place is different./~

—-

Dissatisfaction growing stronger, increasing with every small white button. He was not amused and he did not like 'it'. He did not want to wear the 'thing' with all of its frills and bows. No, he did not WANT to wear it, he did not LIKE it.

"Ah, now Milliardo, please, stop fidgeting. Do not be like that, after all, its only for today. I promise I will not make you wear another dress after today./~

/~No! Not want dress!/~

"But you make such a pretty girl, my dear, and anyone who notices you will remember a pretty girl, not a pretty boy./~

~/Not pretty! Boy not girl! No, no no!/~

"Oh my, such a temper. That is quite enough, young man. It will just be for a few hours, Milli. Come on now, stop squirming. You never used to mind./~

The last button was secured despite his wriggling and protests and she turned away, bustling about the small room, throwing the few clothes scattered over the bed into a small bag. He glared balefully at her, unhappy, hating the pink 'thing' with the white bows and buttons that made strange women exclaim over the '…such a pretty little thing!' and touch his hair and pinch his cheek.

Slowly one small hand found its way to the top button and slender fingers fiddled. He wasn't really taking it off, just playing with a button… and the next one down…

"Milliardo! That is enough! You will leave the buttons alone and wear your dress. Baby, we don't have time for this now; we really must hurry and I'm so sorry. I know you hate it but you must wear the dress… and please don't scowl like that. Pretty little girls don't scowl and just for a little while you have to be a little girl. Just until we get off the train, Milliardo! We'll have a new house where we are going and you'll be going to school soon. When we get to our new house you'll be able to make friends."

A new house. Make new friends. He had heard that before. He knew every time Ma'ma put him in a dress it resulted in a long drive, or a ride on a train and a new place to live. There would be new people for him to watch from the windows. He did not mind that so much, not really, but the last time had not been so long ago and she had promised then he could have his birthday in the old train in the park and they would eat cake there and feed the birds. And it was not his birthday yet and he was not happy he had not been able to eat his cake there.

"Sweetheart… Oh sweetheart, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Her arms were around him and her scent surrounded him and her warmth infused him… It was wonderful to be held in her arms. He was sorry for making her cry… It was bad to make Ma'ma cry. He should not make her cry as he liked it best when she laughed and he was a naughty boy…

"No, no. It's okay, baby. Ma'ma's sorry, sweetheart. I know I promised you we would eat cake in the old train, but I promise you we'll have a look for another old train in a park where we are going. We'll eat your birthday cake there and I'm sure there will be birds for you to feed, maybe even a duck pond. We really, really have to go, Milli. Do you remember the bad people Ma'ma told you about? Do you remember me telling you about them?"

Bad men who would hurt them and his Ma'ma did not want anyone to hurt him. He nodded, feeling small and frightened and very very naughty to make her cry.

~/You remember me telling you about them, about them wanting to take you away from me? They are why we have to go now, sweetheart. Ma'ma knows they are here, Milli and they will come here looking for us and we will be gone, isn't that clever, Milli? It's very clever for us to be gone when they knock on our door. One more time, Milliardo. Just one more time you have to wear the dress to make them think you are a little girl, because they don't know I have a wonderful little boy. I promise we will not need to run away again after this time."

He felt very bad for making her cry and he would wear the silly, horrible dress if only she would stop crying. He was bad for making her cry, because good boys didn't make their Ma'ma's cry and he so wanted to be a good boy. He was so very sorry for making her cry.

"Shhh, it's okay. I know you hate the dresses, baby, but its just this one time. One last time. I'll call grandfather, I promise I will. I'll call grandfather and he'll come and get us and then everything will be alright. Let's wash your face and take away all the tears… Oh, and mine too, I must look a sight, not pretty like you. Can't have that, can we?"

She was pretty. She was always so very pretty.

—-

~/We were… running away?/~

~/It would appear so./~ Treize considered the memory, trying to make sense of the deep emotional gradients that had coloured the child's perceptions of her.

It was Zechs who had backed off, retreating from the memory. Zechs who had curtailed their mergence with the memory just as it was Zechs who had instigated the resurgence of this memory. Treize could feel it, the echo of the child's fear to displease in the younger man. There was also the fear of discovering something bad in his past quickly being replaced by a driving curiosity to know more, and Treize was quick to restrain the surge of intent to go back into the memories and learn more.

~/No. Wait./~

~/Wait? But… I… don't want to stop now! I need to know more. Please… For so long I've wondered… who I was. Where I came from. I've wanted to know who my mother was. I don't remember her... Well… I haven't remembered her before now. I've been petrified of whatever caused this recurring panic attack I've had for as long as I can remember and now… I have the chance to learn more. No one wanted me, not my foster families, nor anyone else. No one wanted to adopt me and I'm sure it was because of the attacks… and I can't blame anyone for that. I was too high maintenance, Treize. I still am. Only Duo and Quatre have ever been able to stand living near me for any period of time. Please. Please don't make me back off now./~

He should, Treize knew, do exactly that. He should call a halt to the session and he could feel Gabriella push gently against the shield binding her from interacting with them. There was little doubt she would advise curtailing the session, it was the cautious thing to do.

Marquise was almost vibrating, his curiosity driving him beyond common sense. There was no fear in the younger man, just the drive to know more, to answer some of the questions he had been trying to pursue for years. But in amongst that drive to know, Treize also detected a willingness to take advice. Eager as he was to continue Treize knew Zechs would heed him if he called a halt to the proceedings.

~/I assure you, Zechs, I am no less curious than you are to find out more. I am, however, somewhat divorced from the events we observed, and I have the training to better make sense of what we have witnessed. It is clear to me that these events are in no set order, the time line appears to be all over the place. What needs to be done to best make sense of it is for us to establish control points./~

He could feel the younger man clench, holding himself taut, expecting the refusal; and Treize was gratified when Zechs did not push against his decision. Zechs might not like it but he would obey, only too aware of the requisites of his training for him to continue against advice offered by a high talent psi with more training than he himself could claim. Treize doubted Zechs would offer so much as a single protest, suspecting he would keep his disappointment to himself and there would be little in the way of sulky, spoilt behaviour.

This young man was not a prima donna, he was too well trained. Tsuberov could take a bow for how well this young man handled himself and, blessedly, it was not in the younger man's nature to sulk.

~/This would be the best place to halt the proceedings, but there is one thing I would like to attempt to do before we end the session. With your permission, I would like to 'skim' the veil of memory. What I would do is lightly and quickly take my awareness through the veil. In the process I would take from it what equates to samples of the memories for me to study and learn what I can to attempt to fit events into a chronological order./~

~/What I don't understand is why my memories would be so mixed up. It's not just one memory, is it? It's a group of memories in there./~

~/I believe you are right, it is not a single event. At present there is no reference that will permit us to neatly place each memory into a slot, one after the other. I do have some suspicions as to why your memories are the way they are, and why they are contained within this structured veil. No, I will not enlarge on that before I can offer you something more than supposition that could be wrong. I'm not ready to commit myself to one train of thought at this time. I lack the evidence to do that and in my line of work I know the value of sound evidence./~

~/It is what you are trained to do… as an Investigator, not as a Prime./~

~/Exactly. It is what I have been trained to do and I assure you I will not let this go. So Zechs, my question is this. Would you allow me to dip into the veil containing these memories, skim what I can in short order and then examine the memories at leisure? There will be no quick resolution to this little mystery. We can arrange working sessions under controlled conditions, either at the Tsuberov complex or at the Agency's laboratories. I have no particular preference for the venue, just for the need for a monitored, controlled environment./~

~/I'm… actually a little afraid they won't allow it. I will probably be in trouble, potentially a great deal of trouble, for allowing this much to happen. They are likely to ban us from continuing./~

Treize felt Gabriella's interest rise and his limited awareness of that 'other' suggested he was curious too. The shadowy shape that shimmered like a dark, sheer veil of material, the memories themselves, moved, drifting gently, growing a little lighter in texture and he loosed a tendril of thought, marking the memory, holding it within the younger man's mind.

~/Is there a particular personage whom you think will speak out against the examination of these memories?/~

~/I suspect my Guardian will have a great deal to say about what we have already done, and none of it will be good. He'll not want it continued, and I'm not too sure Tsuberov's staff will be exactly keen. It would doubtless interfere with my training program and disrupt the schedule for my testing out as a Prime./~

Treize, had he been in his physical body, would have snorted at the very idea of Tsuberov, or this Guardian, protesting against the whim of a Prime Telepathic Empath in the pursuit of the mental stability of another individual claiming similar skills. He strengthened his reassurance around the awareness of Zechs and offered up the impression of him flexing his muscles.

~/You are under the eye of the Prime's, Zechs. I think we can handle any objections your Guardian might offer. As for Tsuberov, I think you might be surprised. Your instructors, on learning of the nature of your 'panic attacks', should be only too interested in dealing with the problem. At the moment unearthing these memories and dealing with them holds more priority than measuring how strong you can bellow 'hi' to some stranger on the moon./~

~/Would you… Will you be able to continue to work with me? Or is it more likely I will be handed over to someone else?/~

~/If you are most comfortable with me I have no objections to continuing to work with you. I admit, I am quite curious about your past… I should imagine you would have looked quite pretty in a dress./~

~/ Oh God./~

Embarrassment flared in their private niche and Treize could clearly hear Gabriella's cackle of amusement. He should not tease, but it lightened the atmosphere and gave the younger man something besides his fear of his Guardian stepping in to think of.

~/My apologies, I could not resist. My training in the investigation of crimes will be more of a help than a hindrance in assisting you to uncover the facts behind a frightened child's memories. If you prefer it not be me, then I think Gabriella would make herself available if you would prefer her assistance./~

~/I would actually prefer you, if possible… but you are investigating what happened at the University./~

Treize dismissed that concern with a pictured shrug, unconcerned. He could handle both cases and truth be told, the more he worked with Marquise, the more secure his shields became. He had noticed the improvement in his personal protection after their first real contact and so had Gabriella. At the moment he was limited with the progress of the incident at Tsuberov whilst he waited on the forensic units findings. There were other avenues he could pursue but he could not, in all honesty, see any real clash between working that case and working with Marquise.

They still did not know which of the three students was the target, after all, and if he kept Marquise in his mental eye, then he could keep a closer eye on Zechs than even the redoubtable Otto and his security staff. Gabriella would agree, he was sure, especially since each time he contacted the blonde his shields received a polishing. He really had to learn how Marquise did that.

~/I can do both. I will see about your Guardian and the niceties with Tsuberov. Now then, what do you wish to do?/~

He could still feel that yearning to go back into the veil and seek out answers. He could feel it, but he could also feel the tempering caution, the result of Tsuberov's teachings never to overextend oneself.

~/Is it dangerous for me to go back into the memory?/~

~/Dangerous? Possibly not. Inadvisable is perhaps the more appropriate terminology at present. As I said previously, I have a few ideas but I need more information before I will relate them to you. And to be honest Zechs, it is late. We have both put in a long day and we need sleep. That is primarily the reason why I prefer you not to enter these memories at the moment. I can skim them, gaining what I can for later study, and at the same time I can lock down these memories within a contained sphere so we will be able to find it more easily and access it without difficulty next time./~

~/You are sure 'they' will not say we can't continue?/~

~/Oh I am quite sure, Zechs. I'll put it this way for you and then maybe you will understand. The Primes, myself, Gabriella and the others in our field, will demand we continue. The sanity and mental wellbeing of a Prime is paramount, and leaving this jumble of memories would be more dangerous to you than investigating them will be./~

The trust was there, strong in the link, and for an instant Treize permitted Zechs to be aware of Gabriella nestled in the link. Her assurance backed up Treize's certainty and Zechs subsided with a sigh of clear regret… but the trust was there.

~/Alright./~

~/Then we shall delay no longer. Relax and allow me to take the lead. I need you to become totally passive if you can. The more you can relax, the deeper I should be able to skim./~

~/Will I share what you sense?/~

~/I would prefer not, to be honest. I will not be hunting full memories in detail, just skimming the surface, taking little pieces that might give me some sense of order when I examine them in greater depth. You could very easily misconstrue what you see or hear. The last thing I want is for you to become confused, or agitated, because you have misinterpreted a tiny piece of a memory./~

~/Ah. Alright./~

` ~/Good. Relax now; allow me to take control…/~

—-

"No! No, I will not tell you!"

"Grandfather… Please understand."

"Hush little baby, don't you cry, Ma'ma's gonna buy you a mocking bird…"

"It is always for the greater good! Well, sometimes for the greater good…"

"I'm so sorry, my little Milli. I'm so very sorry, but I can't see that I have any choice. They're coming. I can feel them and they will take you away from me…"

Darkness, suffocating darkness, filling senses, taking away eyes, voice, hearing… swamping… Screaming in the darkness, hearing her scream, unable to move…

"You'll never get your hands on him to kill him! I'd die first."

"Child, what have you done?"

"My dear, that is exactly what you are going to do. Die."

"Apple, sweetheart?"

"What have I done? What have YOU done! Your family means nothing to you does it?"

"Yes, but then I am prejudice. I think she's gorgeous."

"He has not eaten anything. He does not speak, though he reacts to sound normally. He's not deaf, merely mute. I would say it has something to do with the trauma…"

"Has his mother been found?"

"Milliardo Christian Lovernius! Get your sticky little fingers out of the honey this instant!"

"You won't get my child! I'll never let you get my child."

—

Treize spun a silken web of restraint skilfully about the veil, strengthening it, isolating it and securing it against decay or impinging once again on the young man's consciousness. Gabriella remained with him, watching as he spun the seal, enfolding the memories within a cocoon. He considered the brief flashes of conversation he had heard, the few glimpses of places and faces that he had skimmed from the veil as he worked and he thought he might have taken more than he had expected to grasp.

He could not be sure exactly what he had caught until he found the time and opportunity to study the samples in detail. He must choose a point from which to build his time line and examine the memories, placing them where he thought they might belong to make some sense of order from the chaos. Not an easy thing when one had no idea what one was dealing with, but that was for later.

~/Zechs?/~

His mind hovered near the border to natural sleep and Treize understood why he had been able to dip down as deep as he had into the veil. Zechs was a pleasure to work with and he would look forward to doing so again in the future.

~/Yes?/~

~/It is time to finish for the night. I will keep the memories locked within the shield I have spun and anchored so that it can be accessed; so that 'we' can access it. There will be no need for you to do anything to maintain it. I can access it at need. If you wish I can set a 'sleep' imperative in your mind. There is very little chance you would dream if I did./~

From the hesitation Treize knew the young man would have been expecting nightmares, had most likely experienced nightmares in the past following one of these 'attacks'.

~/With the seal in place is it possible I would experience another panic attack?/~

~/Very unlikely. The memories are now contained for our pleasure, and I will try to arrange a session within the next twenty four hours or so. It might take a little longer, it depends on how certain people take this session and whether or not there might be a breakthrough in the investigation into the disturbance at Tsuberov. If I can arrange a session you will need to be well rested./~

~/I understand. I can take myself down to level seven sleep if you wish./~

~/That would be acceptable./~

He did not question, demand or seek assurances that Zechs would indeed set himself to that deep level of sleep. The man was almost a fully accredited Prime and knew the necessity of a well rested mind for deep level work. He was responsible, not prone to needless recklessness, as demonstrated by his acceptance of backing off from the investigation in the interests of personal safety.

He would sleep and Treize determined to set himself to sleep to that deep level as well. He too wanted to rest, despite his burning curiosity and there was a full days work ahead of him., not that he expected to roll in to work on time. He could only hope Une would not turn queen bitch on him, but then Une would not be keen to have Gabriella in her face.

t.b.c.

Karina Robertson 2010

Notes

Treize Kushrenada : Level 10 Sending/Receiving Telepath + Receiving and Projecting Empath at Level 10. Prime rated. Agency Operative contracted term of 5 years with 2 years remaining. [25yrs of age] Training facility: Psychic Institute Munich Division.

Zechs Marquise: Psi Student 5th year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Level 10 Receiving/Projecting Empath [approaching Prime Designation] + Level 9 Sending /Receiving Telepath, Projected L10 function. Finder function suspected, not officially registered. Country of origin, Luxemburg. [20 years of age]

Gabriella : Romany descent. Level 10 Sending / Receiving Telepath + Level 10 Receiving and Projecting Empath. Prime Rated. Training facility rumoured to be Government Laboratories of the Prussian Republic deposed in the year AC 45. Age: Unknown [rumoured to be approximately seventy four]. Oldest of the Prime Telepathic Empaths.


	38. Chapter 38

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 38/?

Author: Karina

Pairings 13x6 [eventual], 5xS [established], 3x4, Others undecided at this time.

Archive: Gundam Wing Universe []

Gundam Wing Diaries [-wing-diaries. ]

Website address change

If anybody would like to archive The Agency, just drop me a line. There are betaed chapters on my hard drive if you want them.

Warnings: Extreme Alternate Universe setting. Aussie spelling, not much else in the early chapters though it will involve murder, stalking and possibly some colourful language down the track. Some Out Of Character depictions are unavoidable considering the alternate universe setting.

Rating: M [In Australia that would be mature adult 15+] Not sure with the new rating system. Rated for murder and violence as well as adult concepts.

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. That's about as plain as you could say it.

Many thanks to the wonderful ShenLong Deb for betaing this chapter for me.

Summary: The world took a very different turn with the acknowledgement and training of select psychic individuals enlisted in elite fields such as law enforcement and politics. A grading system for the strength of psionic abilities was developed and those who were the top of the elite have been dubbed Prime Talents and are highly sought after. Elite institutions have been developed to mark, train and employ individuals with useable psionic talents. The colonies of canon Gundam Wing do exist in this fic and were founded before the psionic system was founded.

/…/ Thoughts

~/.../~ Telepathy

The Agency: Meeting of Souls

Chapter 38

"Would you mind explaining to me just where you think you are going, Your Highness?"

The voice of doom.

Of all of the people it could have been to come upon them it just had to be the last person he would ever wish to come face to face with.

Heinrich Otto.

In his tenure at Tsuberov, Duo had had more than sufficient exposure to that particular deep voice to never mistake it. He must have heard every inflection it was possible to give a voice, depending on the situation, and he was more than familiar with 'that' voice when it echoed exasperation, disapproval and a warning of consequences one would prefer to avoid.

They were in so much trouble.

Otto could be the forgiving sort if the mood took him for which Duo had, in the past, thanked his lucky stars or he would not long have remained enrolled at Tsuberov. He knew Otto could be forgiving, he could turn a blind eye or he could bring hell down upon an offender's head. He could be hard when the occasion demanded it and Duo had no doubt this occasion would have to measure up to being one of the biggest offences the Tsuberov establishment would not smile upon.

Besides, Otto had history with the girl at his side.

One did not take a Princess, any Princess, least of all the Princess to Otto's home country, to one's hotel suite if one was male. What had he been thinking? He knew what was right and what was wrong in polite society and Relena knew it too. Why had he allowed her to convince him it was going to be okay for them to leave the reception let alone actually go up to his suite?

Enough people in the past had told him he was a no brainer, an idiot, and this had to be the final proof of that accusation. He might have a brain in his head but it sure as hell had failed him in this endeavour.

It would be a lot easier to think if he did not have the shadow of a headache dulling his thoughts, but now that they were caught he had to do something… quickly… and it had to be something inventive and constructive to limit the damage. He had to think.

First things first though, check out his companion's reaction to Otto's appearance. Make sure she realised how screwed they were and would keep her mouth shut and let him handle matters. A quick glance revealed the Princess giving serious concentration to her neat white shoes while her blue eyes were shielded by demurely lowered lashes.

He had the distinct impression she had been caught out more than once by Otto in the past and was well aware of the man's reputation at Tsuberov. How often had she run into him at Sanc?

The silence was growing and they had to do something… He had to do something. Otto would not wait forever and he was up to the task of explaining… well… coming up with some sort of an excuse. He really had no idea why they were heading up to his suite other than the Princess wanted a word with Zechs. But he couldn't say that.

Movement from the corner of his eye drew his attention back to his companion. Relena plastered on a saccharine sweet smile, squared her shoulders and turned gracefully to face the Security Chief. Duo sucked in a breath, trying to come up with something that might be considered a lesser offence and punishable by something a little more mild than expulsion.

He had to think fast and get them out of trouble.

Howard was so going to give his arse a polishing if he was tossed out of Tsuberov before he was qualified. The Sweepers were well aware of the cost of putting him through this level of education and Sweepers never liked to waste money.

"Why good evening, Otto. What a pleasant surprise it is to find you here."

Oh he was so going to pay for this. He was sure he was dead meat walking. She was the Princess and while she might be reprimanded in private, that would be the extent of her punishment, he was sure. If not Otto here and now then someone, at some point, would make the decision to point the finger at him and make an example of him. He deserved it too.

He knew it was a stupid thing to do but he had wanted to find out what had happened in the reception room, he wanted to learn what it was that had upset a friend. There were too few people in this place that he really thought of as friends, but of those few his room mates were top of the list.

Quatre and Zechs had left the reception, that much was a fact, and Relena had informed him something appeared to be wrong with Zechs. That was why they had left the reception and he was afraid that for some reason Zechs might have become ill. Perhaps he had eaten something that disagreed with him… at worst he was afraid it might have been one of those bad attacks that had, thankfully, not bothered Zechs for some time now.

An attack of that nature might have returned at a most inconvenient time and Quatre had been near enough to act. He'd heard all about those panic attacks and how bad they could be and for a certainty Tsuberov would not have wanted it to be a public spectacle. If Zechs had had an attack and it was not simply something he had eaten had disagreed with him, then it was more than simply an inconvenience, it was a bad time for an attack with Zechs undergoing his final stages of accreditation.

Could he distract Otto from thoughts of dire punishment if he mentioned Zechs had appeared unwell? That was a two edged sword, bringing Zechs into this. The blonde got on tolerably well with Otto after all, and from what Duo had learned over time as Zechs' room mate, Otto had displayed a high level of tolerance of his misbehaviour in the past. Certainly he had displayed more understanding than the majority of the authority figures at Tsuberov when it came to those panic attacks.

Duo was sure he had seen genuine concern from Otto before during one of those instances. He really was a good sort and if they could just explain things to him, surely Otto would not make a scene.

"Your Highness, I believe the reception is in 'that' direction."

A large, blunt finger clearly indicated the reception room and Duo would have liked nothing better than to slink off in that direction. Otto might overlook the matter if he could just get the girl to smile graciously and retreat while they had the opportunity. When Otto's back was safely turned and his attention held by someone else, he would find some means of getting back here and trying the elevator again.

It was decidedly odd that the elevators were in-operational, all three of them at the one time, and surely whatever fault was causing the problem would have been caught by diagnostic soft-wear and the service staff have been alerted by now. They would have to have at least one of the units fixed for hotel patrons to return to their rooms for the night.

Now if he could just nudge the girl and get her to notice his 'don't rock the boat' look…

"I do believe it is, Otto, how astute of you to notice. When my business is done I will be only too happy to return to the reception and simper for the masses."

Duo swallowed, trying his best to anchor his jaw to his face and keep it off the ground. Would either the Security Chief or the Princess notice if he decomposed himself into goo and oozed into the ground? Or there was a nice gap of a millimetre or so under the door to the elevator behind him, he could become a nice unobtrusive puddle of ooze and just… leak… his way into the elevator and hide for a bit.

Was she a nutcase?

Princess or not she should have at least sounded a little worried about being found about to take an elevator up to private suites occupied by three males in their late teens. Any girl with half a brain would be worried about that! Ah, but of course, she was a Princess after all. A real live, honest to goodness Princess.

If anyone was going to be in trouble over this it would be him, not her. She had nothing to worry about and, no doubt, she had grown up back chatting the lowly security guard now fronting her and had no fear of him at all.

He was so screwed.

If his headache would ease just a little, just enough to give him the chance to think clearly… He was more than capable of thinking fast and talking Otto around. He had done it before and not just once or twice. If he could just manage to think straight. He was sure he could come up with a plausible sounding excuse for their current situation if the constant dull, throbbing pressure would ease.

"I believe it would be appropriate, and safest for you, if you considered your business 'done', Miss Relena. The Dean is waiting and it would be advisable for you to attend him and charm his guests."

Blue eyes turned decidedly frosty and Duo felt the irrational urge to bolt. The girl might be a Princess but she had absolutely no sense of survival. Retreat was an honourable option, it allowed you to regroup and make plans for another foray toward a goal that was hard to reach. Sometimes you had to take a step or two backwards to make an advance forward.

"I shall attend the Dean in good time. At the moment I have a matter that requires my undivided attention and I have had enough delays and excuses. I am heartily tired of being ignored or 'put off', Otto. I mean to have words with my cousin and this time I will not tolerate being 'distracted'. I've played 'nice' and it has gotten me nowhere and you should know that I have already spoken to him and now we need to finish our conversation."

Oh, Otto did not look too amused by that! Duo watched with baited breath, waiting for the sky to fall in. Otto's eyes were narrowed and that quick glance around the foyer to mark the presence of the other patrons and staff at the hotel was not missed by either he or the Princess. Otto wanted to keep this confrontation low key and it was clear Relena was not inclined to cooperate in the least with him.

"You have spoken to 'what' cousin? I was not made aware any of your cousins were attending Tsuberov, Your Highness. I assure you that if a cousin of the House of Peacecraft were to attend this establishment, I would be informed. I believe you are mistaken."

/I should go. Just sort of… slide on out of here. I doubt either of them would notice at the moment… and it might be better to deal with this tomorrow. Otto might let it slide if she would just… let it go./

But it would not really be polite to leave the young woman to face Otto on her own… not that either of the protagonists seemed to notice him, let alone want to listen to anything he might have to say. It was not a pleasant feeling to be there and be totally ignored.

"Do you take me for a simpleton?" The young woman's eyes were narrowed now, her smile, false as it had been, gone. "I am not mistaken and you know it, Otto, and I am not going to back down again. I have played nice. I have gone through all of the 'appropriate' channels to gain the time, opportunity and the 'blessing' to have a simple talk to a man who is undoubtedly my cousin… and I am denied at every turn. Why? Enough is enough. I 'will' speak to my cousin, and I 'will' learn what I need to learn… and that will be an end to it."

"You are behaving like a spoilt, wilful child deprived of a candy, not as a Crown Princess should."

A small toss of the blonde maned head responded to his hard eyed glare. The girl was hardly afraid of him and her temper was heating up. While they were whispering at the moment Duo was not certain how long they would keep their voices down.

"You might have bounced me on you knee in years gone by, Heinrich Otto, but this is now, not then. I am no longer that little girl you used to feed candied fruits to. I have nothing but the utmost respect for you and the work you do, but I wish people would stop looking at me as though I am either a pampered fool or a tool to be used. I am heartily tired of the constant demands that I do 'this and that' at exactly 'this' particular time, as it is most convenient for everyone. I am the Crown Princess of Sanc. I know that quite well, thank you, and I am well aware of the responsibilities the title places on me. I am also quite aware the only time I am treated like an honest to God person is when I am surrounded by my 'cousins'. I can be Relena then, I can be myself, not the Princess of an antiquated piece of history that is considered more important than the lives of real people. I and my 'cousins' are always being treated as tools, but when we are together it is just 'us'. Us; real every day people not future office holders and spare parts for the royal machine whenever it sees fit to break down. To find there is one of them here… A 'cousin', Otto. Someone I can talk to as 'me', who will see beyond the Princess to the 'me' that is real… I just want to talk to him! Is that such a bad thing?"

Duo thought the sigh must have originated from the depths of Otto's boots it was so deep. The man looked anything but happy, but Duo could see the anger fade and there was no denying the understanding either.

"Will you return to the reception and play your part if I arrange a meeting with Zechs?"

Her blue eyes widened and it was almost pitiable to see the hope that shone to sudden life. Clearly, despite her plea, she had not expected the concession might be made. Duo had the impression the Princess was quite familiar with being denied. She could be a wilful woman, he thought, but how often did she actually get her way? Perhaps he needed to reconsider his views on the spoilt nature of royalty. Under all that starch and formality he had now glimpsed another personality, one of a young woman who wanted to be seen for more than the position of her birth.

"Will you really arrange for us to meet, or will it be deemed conveniently 'inconvenient' yet again?"

"Miss Relena, this is the final year at Tsuberov for a young man who will be rated a Prime level Empathic Telepath. I can not begin to explain to you the excessive demands on that young man at this time. He will have little in the way of free time, however, if it will save you from making a mistake that will reflect on the House of Peacecraft in a most unfavourable light, then I will act on your behalf. I will initiate contact with his Guardian and I will speak to his Instructors and endeavour to arrange some free time. Sufficient time for an official audience, not simply a few minutes stolen here or there. Understand that I can't promise you how soon it will take place, or how long the meeting will be, but I will arrange for something that should please you. However, you should know, and understand, that this will only eventuate if Zechs is agreeable."

"He will be, of course." Relena beamed and Duo thought that she looked like a very young girl in that moment.

"You are so sure? He may not be as willing as you think. There is a lot of responsibility riding on young shoulders and, to be honest, being a Prime level Psi carries more weight and responsibilities than being the Crown Princess of a country."

"Well I certainly know what that's like! Otto, thank you. I know he will wish to talk to me. Why would he not? We are cousins, though for some reason he appeared surprised not only to see me, but to hear it from me. When I called him Cousin… There is something odd going on here, Otto, and I want to learn what it is. Why have I never met him before? I had thought I was acquainted with all of the cousins, particularly the ones of his age who are preparing to step up into positions of responsibility. But I have never seen him around the palace, or the city, and that is odd. The cousins are family and I should have met him at least once by this time."

"Yes, well that is something best discussed at a later time. At the present time we need to attend to important matters, such as you attending the Dean. We are drawing too much attention, Miss Relena. I suggest you return to the reception."

"Yes, I suppose I had best return. Promise me I will get to talk to Zechs, Otto, and that I will not be put off again."

"I will do everything in my power to arrange a time for you to speak with him, but it may take a few days. It certainly will not be tonight or tomorrow."

"I can be patient, Otto. All it takes is for me to know I will be given a fair hearing. Thank you."

For a long moment she studied the older man and finally, with a tiny nod signifying her agreement and her belief that he would arrange the time for her to visit with the young man she named her cousin, she turned a glowing smile on Duo.

"Thank you, Mr. Maxwell. It would please me if we could speak again at some other time and I would like it if you would dance with me in the future. Then you can tell me how Otto spared you any repercussions for my persistence in garnering your assistance. Good evening, Mr. Maxwell. Otto."

Security Chief and Sweeper watched as the young woman glided across the foyer and entered the reception room and not until she was out of sight did either move. Otto sighed and Duo collapsed backwards to lean on the elevator doors, feeling as though every bone in his body was in the process of turning into mush.

"Damn, she has quite a way about her."

Otto drew a slow, deep breath and gave his attention to the shorter man and grunted softly. "She does indeed. The Princess is very much like her mother in some regards." Dark eyes scrutinised the younger man for a long moment. "Do you have a headache?"

Startled Duo met the Chief's gaze and nodded slightly. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."

The man pinched the bridge of his nose and again that heavy sigh marked his state of exhaustion. "It's nothing a few standard painkillers and a decent night's sleep should not cure. I would advise you to go to your room and take some and to see about getting that good night's sleep. I will make my excuses to the Dean to spare you any repercussions for not returning to the reception, so you can retire immediately."

"I… Yeah. Sure. Thanks, Otto. I could go an early night." Duo hesitated, unable to motivate himself enough to straighten his posture and actually move. "Ah, I'm not in trouble then?"

The man snorted softly and inclined his head slightly to better study the younger man. "You heard the subtle 'suggestion' that I spare you any repercussions, did you not? No? Yes, I thought you were bright enough to catch it. Relena has quite a way with her, and unfortunately she does not always realise what she is doing. My apologies, Mr. Maxwell, but I honestly did not think it would be a problem."

He was feeling a little lost at the moment, Otto did not seem to be making a whole lot of sense… but then it might have been the headache was distracting him from noticing subtleties.

"What do you mean, 'realise she is doing'? I don't understand."

Otto glanced about the foyer before turning back to Duo. "Miss Relena is the first member of the ruling house of Sanc to be educated beyond Sanc's borders. That is primarily because of the recent development of her Psi talent. There was much discussion before it was determined that Tsuberov would be best suited to controlling her Suggestor's ability. There had been a number of incidents which could no longer be ignored and her private tutors were not up to the challenge of training her. The young lady is quite talented and, given her position, she must be made 'safe' for others to associate with."

"A Suggestor?" A light bulb had gone off in Duo's mind, an explanation for his actions and for the incessant pounding of his skull. "Princess Relena is… she's capable of influencing… Is… Otto, is that why I was… taking her… She used her Psi talent to get me to…?"

"As I said, Mr. Maxwell, you have my apologies on behalf of my country of origin. I highly doubt the young lady knew she was influencing you. She is quite new to her talent and not by nature disagreeable, spiteful or vindictive. As yet her control is… limited at best. Whilst the Princess was eager to be educated outside of Sanc it was only the advent of her talent and certain subsequent incidents which secured her parents' permission for her to leave Sanc."

"I… see." Duo stared toward the reception room considering what had happened between he and the young woman and finally dropped his head back to rest against the elevator door. "So… what's this about Zechs being her cousin? He's not mentioned any ties to royalty before."

Duo left unspoken the thought that if Zechs had it could have led to an easier stay at Tsuberov for him.

Otto looked anything but happy and shook his head slightly. "It is not my place to know the personal dealings of the Royal Family of Sanc or their immediate family. To my knowledge Zechs Marquise was not born in Sanc, nor has he ever visited the country, but it may take some convincing for the Princess to accept that. Once she gets an idea into her head…" he shrugged. "Now, I suggest you summon the elevator and enjoy an early night."

Recalled to the problem at hand Duo sighed softly. He really did not fancy the walk ahead of him.

"Ah… yeah. Small problem there. I'll have to take a walk around the hotel since the elevator's not working."

Otto frowned and shook his head, reaching out to stop Duo from stepping away from the elevator. "If it is not working, call another one."

"No, Otto, you don't understand. None of the elevators that go up to our level of the hotel are working. I tried them all, but they are down."

Duo was subjected to a hard look from the Security Guard before he strode along the elevators, pressing the call buttons on each of the units that serviced the floors housing the Tusberov suites. Duo winced when the man swore as each red light flashed on, indicating the faulty 'call'. He wondered if he should not quietly make himself scarce and nurse his headache, Otto looked fit to kill someone, but the man reached for his com unit and Duo opted to wait.

There was always the chance he might learn something of interest and Duo was never one to forego an opportunity should it present itself, headache or not.

"Heirnich Otto, head of Tsuberov security. Your elevators servicing the Tsuberov guest suites are not operating."

Duo waited, trying to look as though he was not there and wishing his head would cease its incessant thrumming. It would be a darn fine idea to get some sleep and he was only too willing to comply. It was just thinking about the walk that was putting him off… and Otto might be able to get the repair crews or computer techs in so he would not have to take the detour.

"You were requested to deactivate them? By whom?"

Now there was no way Duo would move, even should Otto wave him off. Someone had deactivated the elevators deliberately? Otto was not sounding particularly happy and Duo absently rubbed at his temples as he watched the man's scowl deepen.

"Fine, you can now reactivate them…"

Duo could faintly hear a tinny voice over Otto's headset though he could not hear any distinctive words.

"I don't care, you will give me access immediately or I will make more trouble for you than… Thank you." Otto glanced at Duo as he deactivated the headset and inclined his head toward the ceiling, indicating the floors above them. "It appears Prime Khushrenada instructed for the elevators to be deactivated. Number three will be working momentarily and I want you with me. I want to know what the hell that man thinks he's doing."

A Prime had ordered the elevators be taken off line? Duo eyed the door behind him with trepidation. It really was not considered a wise move to mess with the Primes. They were dangerous individuals though Duo was well aware that both Quatre and Zechs had been impressed with the Prime Khushrenada. But what was he doing in the hotel and why was he interfering with the elevators?

It was harder to think than Duo cared to admit, his head was throbbing and it seemed the pain was getting worse, but he was curious to know what was happening upstairs. Quatre and Zechs had left the reception and gone up to their suite, and now it appeared the Prime was up there too. That did not bode well to him.

"I don't think Zechs was feeling well, Otto."

A quick glance and a grunt was all the comment he received as the door to the elevator chimed and slid soundlessly aside. Otto glanced into the elevator and then motioned Duo to enter, following the younger man into the car and waiting for the doors. When Otto remained silent after he pushed the appropriate buttons Duo decided he was not going to learn anything if he did not push a little.

"You know the Princess well?"

"I watched her grow up until a few years ago, when I left the service in Sanc."

'If' he left the security service in Sanc, Duo mused. He would be more than a little surprised if Otto did not still answer to someone there. He had been unable to distinguish any real features of the logo on the screen in Otto's office, but he was sure Otto had not put in that call to anyone nearby. The wait had been a few seconds too long for it to be a local connection. He was sure Otto had contacted a high level security service and he had spoken, and been spoken to, as an agent. He already knew something was going down at Tsuberov that was far more serious than the board of Tsuberov was letting on, but exactly what it might be, that was something he needed to find out.

Otto had all of the answers but questioning him was out of the question. He would get nowhere. It was neither his place nor his job to ask those sorts of questions. If his head wasn't aching so much he might have felt game enough to try feeling out Otto hoping he might make a slip, no matter how small. There was always the chance he might learn something he could pursue elsewhere and perchance discover something of interest.

"Hey, Otto?"

What did annoy him and made him curious enough to chance a reprimand, was the certainty of the Princess that his friend was her cousin. Zechs was sure to have mentioned something if he was related to royalty, just to shut up the arse wipes who were down on him because he was not of their social standing. Being related to royalty would open more doors than it would shut at Tsuberov, and it certainly would have given him a fairer treatment from some of the staff and students at the complex.

"Yes?"

Well, it seemed to him that Zechs would get fairer treatment.

"Why is the Princess so sure Zechs is her cousin?"

"Princess Relena assumes and assumptions are, more often than not, in error."

Headache or not, he knew when someone was avoiding a subject. That only further piqued his curiosity.

"She told me he was unmistakably a cousin. Why 'unmistakably'?"

Otto seemed to chew over the question for a few precious seconds and Duo wondered if he was going to be ignored. The man looked far from happy.

"I believe the lady is in error. As I said before, Duo, Zechs was not born in Sanc and he has certainly never been there. I admit when I first saw him I wondered, he does have a striking similarity to some members of the bloodline. However that means nothing. In Sanc we tend to have large families and over the centuries many family members leave Sanc to settle elsewhere. Finding someone who carries a resemblance to the Peacecrafts is not impossible."

That sounded plausible enough Duo mused, and it also meant the Princess was right in some aspects, though Otto had emphatically denied any ties between them.

"So… he is a cousin then."

"It is not impossible, I suppose. If so it would be of a very distant, diluted bloodline. A throwback in genetics could have produced certain characteristics which bring the Sanc royal family to mind. I can see the Princess is not going to be easily convinced until she speaks to him and he tells her himself that they are not related."

Duo frowned, glancing at the taller man before ducking his head and considering twice the thought that occurred to him.

"Would he know to deny it? I mean, he's an orphan, isn't he? He doesn't know himself who his family is."

"There is that, I suppose."

"So there are others with that white blonde hair of his? Other Nordic blonde's in the Princesses family?"

"Indeed there are, but there would be far more of them in Scandinavia and Norway, don't you think?"

"It's a pity though. It might have done Zechs some good to be able to say he had family. Especially while he is studying at Tsuberov."

To that Otto made no comment watching the numbers light up as the elevator rose and closing his eyes briefly as the elevator's classical music was replaced by a light chime and the doors slid aside. Duo watched the man's features harden with determination as he stepped out of the car and pinned his gaze on the three men guarding the hallway.

It would be an interesting conversation, Duo mused, and fell into step behind Otto. The man was not amused.

"Come along, Duo. I want you to take those painkillers and get some sleep."

00000000000000000000000000

Quatre rubbed his hands together, pushing his palms firmly into each other, grinding his palms together. It was taking so long… Were they alright? Everything seemed alright, but could he be sure? He was only training to work in high level sessions, but surely the Prime would not have left him here without being sure he could manage the session.

He glanced up at the sound of voices in the hallway, detecting a note of aggression in the tone and feeling a wave of strong emotion waft through the suite. He had been charged with ensuring no one disturbed the work session that was underway and he would not shirk the duty. It was not as though he was alone, he was well aware of the Duke's bodyguards in the hallway.

They had arrived some time ago and he had spoken to them when their Commander had looked in on him to ensure all was well. He had been assured they would not be leaving the area and that they would guard the door against intrusion. He was not alone and if he detected any stress in the two men immersed so deeply into the merge of minds, all he had to do was call on the guards.

Glancing up from his hands he watched the working Psi's for a long moment. Neither had moved; it was as though they had become frozen in place. Living sculptures. The Prime sat on the coffee table, leaning forward slightly, his hands resting on either side of Zechs' face, fingers spread through the cascade of silver white hair. The Prime looked serene, handsome to a fault, and Quatre suspected he could remain so for hours on end.

Zechs sat a little forward in his seat, his hands resting on the arms of the chair, head tilted up slightly, eyes closed. It seemed to Quatre that he barely breathed and each breath was light and perfectly spaced, exactly synced with the breathing of the Prime. Quatre had no doubt the merge was complete and that their hearts would be beating is perfect synchronisation. He could only wonder how deeply the merge had gone.

There would be some unhappy people at Tsuberov when this night's work was known, but Zechs seemed so much better. Whatever it was the Prime was doing it had relaxed Zechs, and Quatre could no longer feel any emotions from his friend.

His empathy could detect nothing of their emotional states since the initial merge had taken place. Under the care of the Prime, Zechs had very quickly 'vanished' off Quatre's 'emotional' radar. The Prime had emanated calm and controlled confidence and projected it over the distress that had poured from Zechs.

Now both men were like statues, isolated, immobile, emotionless. But they still breathed and he could detect no distress on the monitoring links he maintained with their physical bodies. He could only hope they would not be locked in the world of their minds for hours.

He was not sure he could do anything to influence the situation should the Dean turn up on his door… which might well be what the disturbance outside was all about.

Hesitating would get him nowhere and he needed to know what was going on, so with a final check of the health of the working pair Quatre slipped quietly to the door and opened it a little, just enough to peek out.

The sound of Otto's voice coming clearly through the opening widened his eyes and Quatre was quick to thrust the door open and step out into the hallway.

"It's alright, Mr. Winner. The situation is being explained to your Security Chief. I would suggest you return to monitoring the psi's."

Allah, was he ready for this? Actually monitoring a working session? It was his assigned function and thus far, he supposed, he had performed his function well enough. In every psi session a monitor was appointed to ensure the physical statistics of the pair engaged in deep level work, and that was his function. It was not just to keep the room quiet and ensure they were not disturbed. That was what the body guards were for, after all. He was the empath who would pick up the first signs of distress, should there be any and it was a vital role.

"I suggest you take your friend inside with you, he does not appear to be too well."

Friend?

Quatre half turned, peering around the much taller and broader men and realised that Otto was glaring daggers at the man who was speaking to him and Duo was standing behind Otto. And Duo looked anything but 'well', he realised. He looked pale and sick, his forehead furrowed into a frown and long fingers were rubbing at his temples, suggesting he had a headache.

Allah! Had Otto caught on to what they had been doing? Did Otto know they had bugged his office?

"Duo?"

No, that sounded almost like a squeak! He must be careful to appear unafraid, unconcerned… he might be fooling no one, but he had to try. If Otto knew… Allah, his father would beat him to within an inch of his life. Blessings on Allah for him being the only son; if he had any brothers he might even kiss goodbye to life!

Now that was a little dramatic, but the results of Otto knowing what they had been up to would be anything but good!

"Hey, Quatre. What ya doing?"

Duo slipped past Otto and the bodyguards and Quatre was as surprised as Duo when no one made a move to stop him, not even Otto. Did Otto not know then? It was a surety that if he did he would not let Duo out of his sight until he had dealt expediently with the matter.

Swallowing his trepidation Quatre extended a hand out to Duo as he neared, taking him by the arm and leading him into the suite. He acknowledged the glance of one of the guards and quickly shut the door, casting a glance and his empathic talent over the working pair before looking back to Duo.

"You don't look well."

An understatement as Duo looked almost as bad as Zechs had looked in the reception room.

"Yeah. I have a bit of a headache…"

Quatre watched as those blue eyes tinted violet and narrowed as he noticed the working pair. After a pregnant moment of utter silence, Duo took a step toward the men and Quatre was quick to step between them.

"Don't disturb them!"

"What's going on, Quatre?"

"Please, leave them alone. It's alright, I'm monitoring the session and they are both fine."

"Quatre. What is going on?" Duo looked unimpressed, that violet shimmer was more pronounced and a clear warning of a very uncertain temper.

"It's okay, really. Zechs had another panic attack, only it appears that diagnosis was wrong. They're not exactly panic attacks from what I gather."

"Eh?" A hand pressed to his temples and Duo seemed to shudder. "Look, I have a killer headache. I'll just take some pain killers so I can think without being hit in the brain with a ram-drive and then… Then we are going to talk about this."

"That's fine; that's good. Just don't go near them, please. It's a delicate bit of work they are doing and they don't need leakage from bystanders intruding on what it is they are doing."

"And just what might that be?"

"Fixing things, so Zechs is not bothered by another one of these attacks again."

Duo sidled to one side, making no move to approach the pair directly. He might not have been an empath or a fully functioning telepath, but he knew the dangers involved in interrupting a deep session and this, he was sure, was a very deep session. Tsuberov gave an extensive education regarding Psi function to all of its student body, so he well knew the dangers and how best to avoid them. Namely, don't interfere if you don't know what is going on.

Tsuberov's policies expressly forbade experimenting with psi talent beyond a laboratory's controlled conditions. This kind of session away from a contained and shielded environment was forbidden and someone, he knew, would have to face the music.

"Zechs is going to be in trouble over this, isn't he?"

Quatre shook his head quickly, returning to his seat to extend his empathy and scan for any indication of change in the pair. It was time to check their heartbeats again and assess their physical responses.

"Prime Khushrenada says not, given what the problem was. He says it is not some panic attack brought on by feeling insecure in Tsuberov's environment, Duo. The Prime says it was a violent emerging repressed memory. Something from his past that, each time it rises, is worse than the previous time. Prime Khushrenada says he can help and Zechs really did need help this time. He really did not look well at all."

Duo considered the pair lost in their work and then to the blonde he had come to trust and call friend. Quatre was no fool and he was a Telepathic Empath, though his talent lay more with empathy than telepathy. Quatre knew his stuff and he was an excellent student. He would not be easily fooled, even by a Prime.

"Yeah, well. I know all about not feeling well at the moment. I'm going to do something about my headache before my head explodes and then you are going to tell me what the hell is going on."

Karina Robertson 2010


	39. Chapter 39

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 39/?

Author: Karina

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. That's about as plain as you could say it.

Many thanks to the wonderful ShenLong Deb for betaing this chapter for me.

/…/ Thoughts

~/.../~ Telepathy

Chapter 39

He wished the throbbing would stop. He was not accustomed to headaches and certainly not to headaches of this calibre. Even when pushing his psi talent to further the development of his stamina when using his kinetic talent he had not been cursed with this degree of throbbing. The trainers at Tsuberov were careful to keep their charges within the limits of their developing potential.

At the present time there was too much happening around him that needed thinking about and he was drowning in pain, unable to concentrate.

Too much had happened in too short a period of time and one could not really call any of it coincidence. Duo had never liked being out of the loop. If no one would tell him what has going on around him then he would discover it for himself. He was naturally inquisitive and had a natural instinct for sniffing out trouble. He knew there was trouble at Tsuberov and already he had an insight into what was really happening and what little he knew only whet his appetite to learn more.

What he knew about the events of the last few days was only the tip of the iceberg and already events seemed to be spiralling into a storm of supposition and confusion. There was a lot to be considered and it had to be approached from multiple angles before he could hope to understand what exactly was happening within Tsuberov's structured and generally ordered society.

He wanted to sit down and compose himself and take his time to dissect what he knew; the little bits and pieces, the tantalising hints that suggested murder and mayhem and the curiosity that was revealed to be Heinrich Otto. He wanted to concentrate on the succession of puzzles which might link into one single solution, but there was simply too much pain, too much discomfort, to allow him to concentrate and sort the jumble of impressions and hope to make sense of it all.

He wanted, equally as badly, to curl into a ball of misery and sleep, hoping to wake free of pain and clear headed.

If he did not know it would be a damnably stupid thing to do he would take the entire bottle of pain killers and empty the little blue pills down his throat just to stop the thundering in his head. He was too world savvy to make that kind of stupid mistake. There were a lot of things Duo Maxwell was, but suicidal was not one of them.

/Damn, I've never had a head like this before!/

Tsuberov kept a strict regime of exercises to build up a student's capabilities, developing their stamina, reach and sensitivity in gradual stages. A certain level of discomfort and, yes, pain was to be expected, but this kind of pain…this degree of pain? No. No, this kind of pain usually meant both student and teacher were at fault for failing to read the individuals limitations. At least that would be the case in a training environment.

And he had not even done anything of a strenuous nature with his talent to warrant the pain!

That was what irked him the most, he knew. It was through no fault of his own, no activity he had initiated himself, that saw him feeling the pounding of a dozen sledge hammers bashing at his skull. Otto had said she did not have control of her psi talent and that was why she was at Tsuberov. She was a first year, a rank novice who clearly outstripped the capabilities and experience of her teachers at her home who would have trained her from the first indication of her possessing a psi ability. That was why she was at Tsuberov, to get the kind of attention required to pull her talent in line.

Relena of Sanc, Crown Princess and really rather a pretty and personable young woman. Could he accuse her, it was certainly her fault, but if she had so little control of her talent…

An untrained psi was a danger to themselves and everyone in their vicinity. He had heard it touted time and again and he knew it was true. This was only a minor example of that rule.

The little blue pills would quiet the thundering and if they did not he would request assistance. He was not a fool and if the pain did not ease within an appreciable period of time then he knew he was in trouble and what he must do.

He could have wished he had been doing something enjoyable to deserve the hangover from hell. The after effects of drinking all night would have given him at least some joy in earning this kind of pain, but he had not even had the pleasure of tasting and over indulging. The only pleasure he would have in swallowing something would be two of the little blue capsules and there was no kick to be found in them to delight his system. Ah, well, not quite true. The delight in swallowing them would come with the easing of the infernal pounding in his head.

Two. That was all he could allow himself to take. They were potent, designer drugs formulated to aid specifically a telepath or high level empath to control the headaches that resulted from overflow to their receptors. They were also safe for other psi talents to use, but only the telepaths and empaths used them with any regularity and he only had ease of access to them because he roomed with two very high talent empathic telepaths.

Two pills and then he could approach Quatre to help ease the tension in him. He knew from past experience that Quatre had great hands and he could somehow channel his empathy into a person he touched…

No, Duo knew that was not exactly what Quatre did to make you feel good, in fact it was a piss poor description of the magic Winner was capable of, but damn it all, he just could not think straight and he wanted relief. Relief was what you felt to have Quatre's hands on you, massaging your shoulders and neck and taking out all of the tension. A massage from Winner was what he needed; it would help to relieve the pain, guaranteed, but first… first he wanted out of the monkey suit.

He swallowed the pills dry, rubbing at his temple with trembling fingers and with his teeth grinding. The pain had not felt this bad a few minutes ago, it was not his imagination, but that was alright. It was not dangerous, not yet and he could do something about it. A hot shower would help to relax him and give the pills a few minutes to start working.

Taking a steadying breath he moved to lean out of the bathroom door, looking around the suite until he found Quatre standing near the motionless pair of men engaged in deep level psi work and oblivious to everything but their own inner world. That was just one of the questions he wanted answers to. Just what the hell did Zechs think he was doing allowing a veritable stranger into his head?

Tsuberov's policies expressly forbade such interaction and for very good cause.

/Prime Talent or not, how the fuck did Zechs think he could trust a stranger?/

He would have Quatre answer his questions when he felt better, but not now. Quatre should have known better than to aid and abet the contact; he should have screamed blue bloody murder to stop the interaction. Tsuberov, despite whatever Quatre might think, would be more than vocal about this breach. Duo would ask and he would expect answers, but that was third on his 'to do' list. Pills swallowed, one down, and now second on his list was that hot shower he was aching for.

"Hey, Kitty Kat."

"Duo?" Winner turned immediately, one blonde eyebrow arched and aqua blue eyes concerned. "You don't look so great."

Winner looked relaxed enough, Duo supposed, given Quatre was developing a frown the longer he looked at him. Which probably meant there was no trouble with the working pair as yet, though that might change quickly enough. Otto had yet to make an appearance in the suite so Duo presumed he had time enough to sort himself out and get comfortable. Otto was sure to be a bit miffed by the breaches of etiquette that had taken place this night and Duo was not going to miss anything interesting just because of a headache.

He hoped Otto remained outside of the suite and continue to argue, or whatever he was doing by now, with the men he presumed were the Prime's agents, that should help keep the man focused on anything other than his earlier activities shared with Quatre. Until he felt human enough to listen attentively to anything of interest and not miss something which might fill in a missing puzzle piece, he wanted that man otherwise occupied.

Who would win out of a confrontation between Tsuberov's Otto and the Prime T/E's security contingent? Would Otto have a few choice words to say in the Prime's hearing? Of course he would, Duo had never known Otto to back down. Oh yes, headache be damned, he was going to watch that!

"I'm just going to have a quick shower and see if it will help with this headache."

"I think that's a good idea. When you are done I'll help ease the tension if you wish?"

Duo nodded, yes he certainly did wish for all the help he could get, but he cast a glance again at the working pair, wondering just how thin Quatre could afford to spread himself.

"Yeah, that would be good. I'd really appreciate it, but… Not going to cause a problem with them, is it?"

Quatre frowned for a moment, blue eyes flicking back toward the men seated in frozen tableau and shook his head slowly. "They are rock solid. Stable. There has not been so much as a flicker out of place in either aura for the deep level they are working on since they started. It's really rather an eye opening experience to monitor that kind of ability and training. I can monitor them while I work on easing the pain for you without a problem."

He would have to trust in Quatre to know his own limitations, that level of skill was what they were at Tsuberov to learn after all. Zechs was still a student but he had already qualified for his Prime Empathic rating and had almost completed his Prime Telepathic certification. He and Winner were years behind Zechs in their studies and this simply proved what they had always known. If Zechs could work on a par with a certified Prime level psychic without missing a beat…

Well, he would not long remain at Tsuberov.

"Great. I've taken a couple of those magic little blue pills you and Zechsy swear by, and I'll have a shower and get changed. Won't be long."

"Take your time, Duo. I rather doubt the Prime will be finished for a while yet and those pills will need a good few minutes to work. That I can see, there is no need to rush."

"Not too sure I like the sound of that, Quatre." His gaze locked on the working men, studying them, searching for even the faintest flicker of an eyelash, or the smallest twitch of a muscle, or tick of a nerve. "Not too sure I like that at all."

"Oh, its okay! Really. No problem at all. Zechs needs this kind of attention; you would not believe the difference I can feel in him. Compared to what he 'felt' like when we came up here tonight… Well, there actually is no comparison. It's… rather remarkable, really, such a large change in so short a time. Go and have your shower and then I'll work on you."

A moments more hesitation, but there was little he could do and Duo knew it. He sure as hell could not interrupt a working session; that would be dangerous to everyone involved and potentially more so to those in the immediate vicinity from any backlash. To interrupt and intrude upon a deep session of two Prime level psychics… well, he really was not suicidal. Zechs was a credited Prime level even though he had not, as yet, received his official certification. One Prime psychic going off his tree would be too much, but two? No, the consequences did not bear thinking about.

Duo would be patient and if he thought things were getting out of hand he would do the responsible thing and call Tsuberov's laboratories and get some of the trainer's quick smart.

/Since when have I been that responsible? Damn, spending time in Tsuberov is changing me./

With a nod that threatened to have his head fall from his shoulders at the resulting spike of pain, Duo retreated into the bathroom. He pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes narrowed against the bright lights that flipped on automatically as he turned on the shower and quickly manipulated the heat setting. He wanted the water temperature to be at the high end of his tolerance to work into his aching muscles, but it would have been kinder on his aching head if he could have enjoyed the shower in a darkened environment.

He was quick to remove his clothes, carefully placing the suit neatly on the rack that came standard with the suite, trousers precisely folded and jacket on the hanger provided. He treated his shirt more casually, tossing it aside with his socks and boxers to later be placed in the laundry basket. After a long moment of hesitation he removed his hair tie and unravelled his braid before stepping under the spray. Normally he would not have considered washing his hair at this late hour of the night, but normally he did not have a killer headache to nurse.

Plunging his head beneath the spray of blessedly hot water Duo simply stood, head bowed and eyes closed, allowing the water to cascade over him. It was such an awesome feeling to allow the heat to soak into him. To just stand still and enjoy the warmth, to let the water jets massage him and ease the aches and pains he had not been aware of before Otto had joined them at the elevators.

If he stood under the hot spray long enough it was sure to help relax him. He wanted desperately to get rid of the pounding in his head and a few minutes of standing still and allowing the warmth and force of the water to work on him and then he would force himself to shift. He would wash his hair and while lathering in the shampoo and conditioner he would be massaging his scalp and find some small relief in the action.

It was all designed to give those pills a decent amount of time to ease the pressure in his head and soothe the aches so that Quatre would be able to work on him. He needed to relax as much as possible to make it easier for Quatre to work his particular kind of magic.

With a low sigh he reached for the shampoo but dropped his hand… he had time, surely, to just soak a little more? He had always enjoyed washing his hair, massaging with gentle but strong fingers against his scalp. That would be sure to help but not just yet, though the weight of his hair was currently not so pleasant. The headache was not being helped by the sheer weight of the mass of very wet hair but the pleasure, small as it was, of just standing under the spray was worth it.

/Anyone would think I had been drinking all day./

He tilted his head back, baring his face to the spray and moaned softly with pleasure. Lifting his hands slowly, extending his arms high above his head… interlacing and locking his fingers together and taking a single step forward. The hot spray hit him between his shoulder blades and he moaned again.

/Anyone would think I was getting it off in the shower./

Slowly he worked his shoulders, rotating first forward and then back, stretching cramped muscles, tilting his head for additional stretch, slowly, always slowly for fear of something breaking. He felt it would be all too easy to strain something if he moved too quickly and too deeply, but it was such a pleasure to indulge himself at the moment.

It felt so incredibly good having the hot water massaging his aching muscles. He might almost say it was better than sex, but, let's be realistic he mused, nothing could be better than good old fashioned, wholesome sex.

/Not that I've enjoyed a good bit of rough and tumble for a long time./

Being unattached had its down side, and it was not as though he was a high level telepath or empath who had trouble with intimacies. It was just that he did not particularly fancy anyone in his acquaintance at present. His room mates were certainly not on his 'to be humped if the chance arose' list. He had learned in the past that one did not engage in casual relationships of the sexual type with one's room mate. It was unfortunate, but such relationships in the past had become messy fast, and he had had enough of that.

No, facts were facts. There were plenty of hot guys at Tsuberov; he was homosexual and while he admired the girls it was the guys who heated his blood, but none of them stirred him. They were too 'rich' for his blood.

Duo was well aware of who he was, where he had come from and what and where he wanted to be in the future. His desire in regards to a partner of the intimate persuasion lay more along the lines of being more 'down to earth' than the children of the uber rich and famous. It was silly really, given that Quatre was one of the children of those uber rich and famous families and, Duo admitted, but only to himself, that he wouldn't mind indulging there. But, thankfully, he was not really into Quatre's innocent and clean cut look.

Room mates were out of bounds.

Zechs would have better fitted the bill, certainly he was hot as and came from a background that certainly did not fall into the luxurious and wealthy in the extreme category, but again there were problems. Both Quatre and Zechs were telepathic empaths of high ability and sex for them was… well, secondary. Circumstances had to be just right for them to consider indulging in intimate contact and Duo was far too open and, in all honesty, sexually based than either of the two could handle safely.

No, he wanted someone who was from a different background than money and privilege, someone who knew more than what it was to be waited on hand and foot. He needed a partner who did not chance insanity, or hurting their partner in the 'heat of the moment' with an unguarded thought and who could fend for himself no matter where they were or what they were doing.

For Duo there was no need for such concerns for any partner to be able to match his psi abilities simply to have a chance of surviving sex with him. He did not particularly care if any prospective partner in the future had so much as a single iota of psi talent.

Blue eyes swam unbidden to peer at him from his closed eyelids. Blue eyes and unruly brown hair…

/Shit! Where did that come from? No fucking way! That is just wrong, Maxwell./

It was just as well the thumping in his head, which had moderated somewhat he was pleased to note, gave him something other than that particular hot arse to think about. Thinking about that certain individual would only cause his blood to rush to southern regions and give him something else to worry about. He needed to get his mind back on track and stop fantasising about the 'hot as' arse of the investigator visiting the campus.

/But its such a nice arse./

No, best to change focus now.

Where best to start? The demon in the nether regions had already twitched and he really did not feel up to playing with his problem self. Grabbing the shampoo bottle he squeezed the tube, shifting his position to move his head from under the spray of water. Shampoo curled, cold and creamy into the palm of his hand and he closed his eyes as he began to work it into a lather through the cascade of his hair, stepping forward in the shower to concentrate the water better to flow down his back. It took time to wash a head of hair as full as his and he fell to practising his breathing exercises to assist in calming his body as he pulled more and more of his hair into his hands.

There were other things to think about than one sexy… Damn.

Time for a mental list which he determined to write down when time and circumstance allowed. There was Otto. The Security Chief and his somewhat more than suspicious behaviour of late; the man had to be working for someone, some agency or company other than Tsuberov. It was not so unusual for elite Security personnel to engage in multiple contracts, but something struck Duo as being wrong about this particular circumstance if that was what Otto was involved in.

After witnessing what he and Winner had in the Security Chief's Office, there was little doubt the man was working for more than just Tsuberov, but who… and importantly, why? At this elite level Otto would be very well rewarded financially, so money was not likely to be an issue. Tsuberov had the money to pay well for the best of the best.

There was the Sancian Crown Princess who had entered their lives with all of the finesse and delicacy of a bomb going off. The girl seemed to have no doubts at all that Zechs was a cousin, and Duo might not know much about the noble families of Earth but he knew enough to know they were picky about who they claimed openly as being a part of their bloodlines. Relena's claim and Otto's debunking of those claims had shit loads of weirdness attached to it.

And to add additional substance to the growing list of questions how about a T/E Prime suddenly appearing from out of nowhere to work on a panic attack that was, according to Quatre, apparently not a panic attack? It was not as though the man would have been lurking in the vicinity to just pick up on a vibe and come running.

There was someone, not someone he wanted to meet, he decided, who didn't think twice about disrupting an institute the size of Tsuberov and necessitating the summoning of a private and highly qualified group of investigators to the campus. It was not as though Otto was incapable of investigating a bit of malicious damage after all. Then there was the death on campus and that, Duo supposed, explained the investigators well enough, though none of them were simple law enforcement investigators.

Internal security could not investigate a death. That kind of incident had to be investigated by the appropriate law enforcement agencies. These guys were a little more than police and that was enough to get him curious as to exactly why they had been summoned. Simply saying they were on site because Tsuberov housed the children of the highest profile citizens of the ESUN seemed… well maybe it was that simple.

/Way too many questions. Come on man, you are supposed to be calming the headache down, not stressing out and giving it a boost./

Pick a topic and indulge in some weirdness, he mused. The whole thing might have been some stupid arsed game show on the entertainment channels except for the fact he and his friends were involved and someone had died. Would there be a prize if he came up with an answer or two?

/This sure as hell ain't soothing. Oooh, pardon me. Ain't ain't grammar and I ain't gonna use it are I./ He cracked a grin and shook his head slightly. /Have to remember that. My elocution teacher would be proud of me. Do I really want to think about any of it?/

No.

No, he really did not want to consider any of it tonight. Not until the thumping in his head eased enough for him to draw an even breath and he could be sure he was thinking clearly. Returning to the series of breaths that concentrated his focus and based his working concentration before he began an exercise, he reached again for the shampoo, squeezed and began working a lather up in the hair he had not yet attended to.

Those magic blue pills were beginning to work and by the time he worked the conditioner through his hair and did a final rinse off he would, if he was lucky, be able to deal with Quatre. He wanted whatever answers Quatre could give him and then he wanted nothing more than a good nights sleep.

— 00000 -

Deep shadows, always welcoming, always safe, always friendly. It did not matter, the smell, the openness of the sky above. It was shadowed, safe… it had always been safe in the shadows so why…

Throbbing, agonising, consuming…

Why now…

Pleasure.

Why now did it seem so…

Scream in the night, muffled, he must not draw attention. To draw attention was to destroy the safety of the shadows. He did not wish to be noticed. He had been warned.

Good… Very good but…

Wrong, so wrong.

It… did not last.

Nothing was right. Unease returned as soon as the moment was over.

"You really were a virgin, heh?"

It was wrong now. For the first time he was not sure of the shadows' safety. Was it because of… him? Because he was not alone?

It should not be so… so sordid.

The moment was gone, the pleasure gone. Now the smell was noticeable… worse than it had been before.

It was so ugly.

So wrong.

There was supposed to be pleasure in the act. Pleasure. It was supposed to make him feel good.

Feel good… for more than a moment.

Feel good, not unclean.

"Can't say I've had many first timers."

Shut up. Shut up! It was not time to talk, not time to prove how wrong this was. The shadows were not safe while there was someone near.

"Well, you didn't last long, but there is no discount."

Sirens somewhere in the night. Wailing their alarm to the star pointed darkness, filling the canyons between the buildings with sounds that matched the wailing in his head.

Wrong, so very wrong. Where was the wonderful feeling he had heard you were supposed to have?

"Come on back if you want another go, sweetie."

Shut up!

"Hands off unless you want to pay for a second round… but something tells me you don't have the stamina."

It was ruined.

Wrong.

"Hey! I said hands off unless I see the colour of your money."

His hands tightened… his head throbbed and the sirens wailed… always wailed… and he would not shut up!

Where was the pleasure, the… afterglow… that was what he had been told good sex left one with. The afterglow that made all the effort worthwhile.

He had found nothing… nothing but mess and stench and garbage. The afterglow that made the dirt and mess worthwhile… where was it?

"Sgh...ahg..'et… go!"

"Shut up. Shut up! SHUT UP!"

A moment, one single moment when the world shattered… It had felt good and then… nothing. Nothing… garbage, stinking garbage and sluttish greed.

There was only pain and dirt and mess and… and… wrongness.

The scent to match the mess. The reek of garbage, the filth of human waste piled up around him, reeking and disgusting. The foulness of humanity hidden in the darkness but reeking, always reeking.

Where was there pleasure to be found in this disgusting act called sex?

His fingers tangled in dark hair, tightening to the point of shooting pain through his knuckles, hot thickening fluid coating his hands.

It was… not… good…All of it was not good.

The wailing, the weeping… the screaming.

Why did he hear nothing of the pain to be found in sex? Why did so many seek it out? Was mankind truly so depraved at to want this stinking, oozing sweating contact? Was that singular moment when the world came apart worth it? Why did he hear nothing of the… mess?

Why did he only hear talk of love and the pleasure it could give?

This was wrong. It was not how it should be. It was not how it must be for Him.

HE must know pleasure

It was disgusting. Drool. Disgusting, messy slobber running from pierced nostrils, slack lips, mixing with darker liquid to flow pink. Sounds that echoed pain continually haunting and howling.

Hands clawed and scratched. Jagged nails cracked and broken, tearing at the ground… legs flailing, feet grinding into garbage. Filth like all the rest of the filth surrounding them.

Fire in his veins burning to the core… A different kind of pleasure. The ultimate pleasure he had known once before.

Yes, there had been pleasure in this disgusting little alley, but nothing like he desired the release to be… gone far, far too quickly. Just… It was just a disgusting mess.

It would not do.

There must be more to be had than… this.

The scent of burning overshadowing the stench of refuse. A moment of burning fire, pure pleasure, but overshadowed too quickly by the disgust, the horror of human garbage.

His hands clenched tighter. Pain rising in a steady wave, fast, hard…Rising panic.

A mistake.

His mistake.

His fault for shamelessly debasing himself with garbage. It could never be what it should have been with less than perfection touching him… touching in turn…

Gasping gurgle in the darkness, garbage shifting, kicking.

Shut up.

This was… had been… sordid. Disgraceful.

Shut up.

He should have known what he needed to learn he could never learn from a street walker.

Shut up!

This was… wrong. This heat he had felt, hot, sweaty, disgusting… was lust. The brief flare of fire in that one moment of pleasure was lust alone and therefore it was not pleasure.

Lust was disgusting. Lust was dirt and garbage and pain.

Lust was not and never could be what love could give.

The one, He who was desired, was no whore who would sell himself to any taker with credit enough to pay. This was not the mouth he would taste; who he would have taste him. Not the one he would plunder, savour… worship.

No, this had been… was… a mistake.

The screaming was quieted, the sirens shrill wailing gone into the night.

The pain rising around him was personal, from deep within. Deep spears of intensely blinding pain crashing in to fill the silence filling his world in the aftermath of the sirens. Pain throbbing in his head, replacing the screaming wails that had torn into his delicate ears.

Finally the whore was silent but the pain… the pain was rising and he could feel blood on his face, dripping, running over his skin, seeping from his ears, from his nostrils, from his eyes.

He must return.

He needed his dark and silent place.

It was too much too soon.

His mistake.

Hands unclenched from fists, stiff, his fingers jerking; tiny spasms trembling as he released… long hair slipped through his fingers, tickling his palm, snagging on his ring.

This was not love.

This was not… not even sex.

This was… was…

Fornication.

He had made a mistake and like all mistakes he would learn from it. Pain was returning with more speed and greater intensity than he had expected. Relief from pain had been all too brief and he needed to calm himself.

His mistake for acting too soon, for making such stupid mistakes as to mistake lust for love and for soiling himself fornicating with garbage in the midst of garbage.

There was… he must… no witnesses?

No. He was safe. There had been no one to watch him approach the whore. He had been careful, wanting to be discrete. No one had watched him walk away from the crowded street with the whore. He had been just one of many bodies in the street and… and… only one of many talking to a whore. A slut. A streetwalker no one would miss.

It had been dark. He had been well covered, a hat and long coat, nothing distinctive, nothing to mark him as being above the dross of humanity.

Pain spearing through his head. Making it hard to think… but no. He was safe from discovery. He was sure. No one had watched them… watched them… watched… him…

Watched him soil himself. Defile himself. Degrade himself.

No one had been there to watch. No one witnessed his debasement.

He must purify himself. Cleanse himself. Wash away the depravity, the filth, the sin. He could not, must not, approach Him covered in the filth of the streets.

He must not soil Him.

Thrust the clinging filth from him. Filthy. He was filthy. He needed to bathe, to purify himself. It clung to him, the filth of the whore, the filth of the garbage, the filth of his sin.

"Stop screaming."

He could hear screaming, the whore, the garbage, the world… It screamed at him, hurting him, dominating the world… He must return to his safe place, his haven in the dark. Dark and silent and safe. There he could cleans himself, make amends and purify himself, beg forgiveness…

"Stop screaming."

He could not, must not, face the lights. If he walked out into the streets, within the bright rays of the lights, someone might see him. He must return to his safe place and to reach that haven he must walk the dark paths. The silent ways where few dared to venture, where none knew the way to his sanctuary. A long walk, but a safe walk and it would serve to quiet the thunder in his head.

The walk, the sheer distance involved would help him to relieve the echoing screams in his head. He could quiet the pain rising around him, he had done it before and he was not afraid of the pain. They had said it might happen and he had been willing to experience it.

Because it would give him HIM, the one he desired, the one he loved and worshipped.

The walk would give him time to think. To plan.

He needed to learn the art of love, not the art of depraved, lustful sex.

Dirty, sordid, diseased sex.

That depravity was all he would learn from the whores of the world.

Disgusting.

Dirty sex was all they knew…and how to scream.

He would not soil his lover with something so… base.

Sex… It was not sex he desired. He sought far more than lust. He sought to love.

He desired to pay homage to the beauty of Him. Impure sex was not paying homage to perfection. Only purity could do that. He had soiled himself, made himself unworthy. He must… somehow, cleanse himself of the stench of the act of sex with the unclean.

To set hand to Him one must be pure, perfect.

To worship him one must be pure, perfect.

To make love to Him he must be pure, cleansed. Perfect in his turn.

One could not learn the art of love in a filthy back alley filled with stinking garbage from the refuse of society. How could anyone learn to love, adore, pay homage to and be worthy of perfection when one had only the dredges of humanity to look upon?

"Stop… screaming…Stop… screaming…"

Fornication was a disease rife throughout the city. Fornication was sin. Sin needed to be purified. Sluts. Whores. The dregs of society… All of them needed to be cleansed. Decent people could not walk the streets without whores approaching them, accosting them, tempting them to fall from a state of grace.

He who was to be worshipped must not walk such filth laden streets. Not a dirt stained finger must touch him, not a sin laden mind must soil his beauty by looking upon Him.

Something, someone, needed to do something. Something must be done to keep the streets safe.

"Stop screaming… Stop screaming…"

Something must be done.

"You will…"

He was unclean, unfit to approach Him. He must purify himself. Purify all who were soiled with the sin of lust. He must banish imperfection from His sight. None but the pure of heart and soul could be permitted to gaze upon Him.

"You will… stop. You will…"

He must make amends for his weakness. He must purify himself and prove himself worthy.

"You will… stop screaming…"

— 0000000 -

Below her, sprawling between the base of the cliff and the sea, New Port City spread in a sparkling gown of glittering lights. It might have been a ball gown of incomparable beauty instead of a seething mass of humanity. A city full of sparkling lights and gorgeous colours, a broad mix of the old and the new. New Port City claimed a beauty under the night sky anyone could see yet few looked at with any regularity. It was worthy of a lament that few individuals appreciated that rare beauty.

She had always enjoyed the view from this wing of the palace. In her early days in the country the view had offered her some comfort and during these later years it offered her some hope. Her daughter's future was bright and she had no doubt Relena would step up to her place with pride and be the ruler these people needed.

Not that her husband would soon find his passing. He was not a young man by any means, but he was healthy, alert of mind and had his hand firmly on the reins of power. Stephan Peacecraft had many more years of sitting upon the throne ahead of him and their daughter had time to grow into herself before taking up the mantle of Queen.

Her early doubts about her marriage had faded as they had become familiar with each other. She had expected there to be more difficulties, in all honesty, than there had been, given the age difference when she had wed the King. He had ever been a gentleman and though he had been less than warm to her in the early days of their marriage they muddled along tolerably well.

Who would have been enthusiastic given the circumstances of their arranged marriage? Certainly she had not been and therefore she could not blame Stephan for his reservations. It had proven not to be such a bad life becoming Queen to Stephan's King.

In many ways it was rather archaic in Sanc. Traditions that were upheld and revered here were long forgotten elsewhere in Europe. Some days the quality of the time that filled the ancient hallways of the palace weighed heavily on her shoulders. In some of the older sections she would swear she had glimpsed strange things that, on second glance, proved not to exist at all.

She had been a dutiful daughter of her house, reared to be aware of the necessities and advantages to be gained by playing political games. She had learned early to be aware of the world and knew before it had been formally announced to her family members, the political coup it had been for her father to successfully arrange her marriage into the House of Peacecraft.

He had succeeded in not simply arranging a marriage into the House, but into the direct bloodline of the House. The marriage to the head of the bloodline placed her on the throne and gave her family a boost in social standing within her own country. Even in these enlightened times such arranged marriages were accepted, though the age difference had given rise to a few eyebrows.

She had accepted her place within her family and her duty to the House and wed the man, but she need not fear the same fate for her daughter. Stephan had promised her Relena would not be bound by archaic chains and practises to provide an heir to Sanc. It was a promise she was determined he would keep.

Stephan had long been King of Sanc before the marriage contract between them had been formulated. He had wed before, also an arranged marriage, losing his Queen and first born son in an accident.

She felt for the man. He had had poor luck with his marriage bed, from what she had overheard her predecessor had not been easy to live with and they had not gotten on well together. It had made her fearful for his reaction to her after their marriage. He had not sought to marry after the disaster of his first arranged marriage, nor could she blame him, and only Parliament going behind his back to finalise the marriage contract saw him wed to her. It had been arranged and it would have been no small insult and a rather large political incident had he refused to honour the contract.

He had been less than friendly at their first meeting, but given the circumstances surrounding the marriage contract she could not say that she faulted him for his reserve. To her, at that first meeting, she had the impression the man had been in mourning for years and had had little if any inclination to wed again. It was only later she had heard the rumours he had been less than friendly with his first Queen and so she assumed it was his son she mourned.

He had been forty six when they had met, a widower for more than twenty years and he must have felt like a chastised child when presented with the marriage contract signed and sealed by Sanc's Parliament.

Her own feelings on the contract had been varied. She had known since her early years a political marriage to strengthen her family's social standing lay in her future. She was only a low level psychic, graced with a mild empathic talent, and her talent had given no excuse to avoid physical intimacies. At the time of the contract there had been no laws in effect for Psi's to provide a minimum of three heirs and she could not say she was of a mind to smile on the thought of artificially breeding children.

Whilst not a fan of the modern use of artificial breeding practises to provide talented children for the future, she admitted the practise might give her daughter some surety of avoiding her fate to be a brood mare for the bloodlines. In this modern time even the reigning head of a country was not excused, if one was a high level psi, from providing sufficient heirs to ensure the continuation of desired genes.

That was a battle yet to be fought with Parliament, one she would fight willingly to see her daughter free to choose her own partner. She could not say she had not been happy with Stephan, their marriage had been far from unpleasant, but she wanted better for her daughter. If Relena desired to wed she would be pleased, but if the girl chose to breed by contract, foregoing the whole 'you must have a consort' tradition, then she would have her mother's backing.

How fortunate might the girl be to deal so well with any arranged matches that might be contracted with any suitable young males as she had been with Stephan? Far better for there to be children birthed through the tenants of the Psi Contract, one to inherit the throne of Sanc and Relena free to choose a life partner for honest affection.

Certain members of Parliament would choke on that thought. Interesting days lay ahead, but she would not rest until there was an agreement. For her daughter's sake.

But Relena was not the issue that interested her this night. Raising a delicate hand to her forehead Katherine pinched the bridge of her nose and wondered, not for the first time in a few hours, what it could mean that the old woman had come to Sanc.

Gabriella had been to Tsuberov, that had come out in their conversation over tea in the conservatory, and Relena was currently resident at Tsuberov. Was there cause for her to worry for her daughter?

"Madam. His Majesty has returned."

Perhaps now she might have some answers to questions she had not dared to ask the old woman. Stephan had often avoided her more direct questions in the past concerning his younger years and was adroit at using means both subtle and direct of turning her attention elsewhere rather than answer her questions. He had an unfair advantage in his psi talent, it was his greatest aid when dealing with people and she was by no means immune to his talent or his charm.

"You may request he meet me in the solar in a few minutes."

It was an instruction not a question despite the manner in which she had phrased it, and she had no doubt Stephan would be there though the servants would certainly put a different slant on the request. He was always considerate of her and the relationship they had forged over the years and over this last week he had been largely absent from the palace. Given the amount of interaction they had shared he would not begrudge her an hour of his time now that his business for the day was concluded.

No doubt someone would have taken the time and effort to inform him of the identity of their most recent and much esteemed guest.

"Have refreshments served. Cognac, I dare say for Stephan, and Earl Grey Tea."

The faintest motion of her hand, the staff were all trained to pick up on small signals, denoted she was done with her instructions. The staff who served in the private family quarters were adept at reading body language and an assortment of set signals, and she was well aware just how many of them were distant cousins of the Blood.

One did not insult the staff in the private Peacecraft quarters as they were all to varying degrees, blood related to the King. Cousins, they were commonly called. The Peacecraft penchant for interbreeding with the common masses had made little sense to her in the past, and she had viewed it as a rather nasty Lord of the Manor rights and privileges from the Dark Ages, to be loose and free with common women. Time and exposure to the ways of Sanc had subtly altered her perspective and she admitted having the Cousins attend the direct line family worked.

The Cousins could be found throughout all levels of the hierarchy in the palace and they were highly trusted with sensitive information and tasks. What most astounded her about the practise of taking in children born of such liaisons was that the practise had been followed for centuries and, not even in the dark days of feudal Europe, had one of these children born out of wedlock been involved in revolution against the crown.

Sanc all too often seemed to be a world apart and some days she still felt herself to be an interloper.

"Ma'am." She did not need to see him bow his way out of the room, she had witnessed it hundreds of times since her arrival in Sanc.

Over the years she had heard whispers concerning this old woman who had arrived unannounced. She was the oldest, the original Prime T/E talent. She had assisted in the formation of the current rules and ranking system that governed all with psionic talent and this august personage had arrived without fanfare or advance warning.

Were the stories she had heard of this old woman exaggeration? She could only hope so.

This was, undoubtedly, The Gabriella she had heard about since coming to Sanc. It had been somewhat more than twenty years since last Gabriella had been in Sanc, and from accounts that last visit had been anything but uneventful.

It had been just after her marriage contract had been finalised and announced to the world at large, as she recalled, though she had never laid eyes on the woman herself. From her isolated guest quarters surrounded by her family to insulate her from the local happenings, she had heard of a stir in the King's inner circle of attendants and Ministers, but she had no idea as to its cause… not then and not to this day. Her assumption had been it was a less than favourable reception of the contract.

Gabriella, from what she knew of the woman, might well have objected to the contract. She was Prime. She was somehow involved with the Peacecrafts on an intimate level and from all reports she was rather strongly opinionated and not shy of letting her views be known. Following their shared refreshments she found herself rather liking the old woman who had not struck her as being the devil she was reputed to be.

Which meant that the old woman was probably worse than rumour had it.

Thinking back to that long ago time, Katherine had a vague recollection there had been whispers of someone dying. A Cousin? Perhaps, she mused, certainly someone who had an effect on the rather broad 'family' that made up the Peacecrafts, though she could not recall how the relationship might have equated to the direct lineage. There were, in her opinion, far too many Cousins to keep track of and at that time everything about Sanc had been foreign.

She did know that the Prime was blood related to the Peacecrafts, accounted a family member, albeit one to be watched and tip toed around. She supposed that given the Prime had blood links to Sanc's ruling line that the person who had died, if that was what her presence had been about, might have been one of her children, or perhaps a grandchild? There had been no large funerals and the palace had not entered into any official mourning period that she had noticed so she could not be sure, but whatever it was the old woman had arrived in a rage. From the whispers that had filtered to the guests in residence, the Prime had made quite the impression on staff and parliament alike; particularly on Stephan and his Chief of Security, Lord Alistair Pagan.

The self same Alistair Pagan Gabriella had come to see this morning after more than twenty years of absence from the country. He had been quick to come to her summons, formally bowed to Gabriella with the exact same degree of formality as he bowed to Stephan, and thereafter the pair had adjourned to a private meeting that was still ongoing.

That meeting had begun hours ago and neither had appeared since. Her servants informed her refreshments had been served at Pagan's summons periodically, and in the last two hours instructions had been given for them not to be disturbed. That instruction had come from Gabriella and she had sited psi work would be in progress.

To say that her curiosity was piqued was an understatement. She felt positively left out, an outsider looking in. Pagan was a curious old bird. Sometimes over the past years the old man would look at her and she would get the unsettled feeling that he blamed her for something. That she had done something which had affected him and, to her knowledge, they had never crossed words. She had her own staff to liaison with Security and during social occasions they were impeccably polite to each other.

It had gone on long enough. She wanted answers.

/Perhaps Stephan can give me some of the answers tonight./

Drawing in a deep breath Katherine Peacecraft smoothed her gown, squared her shoulders and set her carriage as befitted her station. A moment to firm her resolve before facing whoever she must pass who stood between her and her meeting with her husband and she swept from the parlour.

Her husband would be unlikely to reach the solar before her and he would have long ago been informed of their guest and that Gabriella was currently ensconced with Pagan in a closed meeting. Whilst it was not by any means early in the evening they rarely retired before midnight, and since Stephan had been absent for the majority of the day he could very well keep her entertained whilst she waited for the meeting between the Prime and Pagan to conclude.

And he could talk to her about the past and the role Gabriella played in it.

End

Karina Robertson 2010

—

Notes

Duo Maxwell: Psi Student , 3rd year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Level 8 Psychokinetic ability, projected level 9. Sending Telepath Level 5. Colony of Origin L2 Cluster [ 18 years of age] Sweeper adoptee. Under pre contract agreement with Sweepers.

Quatre Rababer Winner: Psi student, 2nd year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Current Level 5 Telepath, projected Level 7, Current Level Receiving Empath 9.3, projected Level 10, Prime. Current Sending Empath Level 2, projected Level 4. Colony of Origin, L4 Cluster [18 years of age]

Katherine Weyridge Peacecraft: Empath [Level 3] Private tutored. Queen of Sanc [age 39 yrs] Relena's mother


	40. Chapter 40

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 40/?

Author: Karina

Pairings 13x6 [eventual], 5xS [established], 3x4, Others undecided at this time.

Archive: Gundam Wing Universe []

Gundam Wing Diaries [-wing-diaries. ]

Website address change

If anybody would like to archive The Agency, just drop me a line. There are betaed chapters on my hard drive if you want them.

Warnings: Extreme Alternate Universe setting. Aussie spelling, not much else in the early chapters though it will involve murder, stalking and possibly some colourful language down the track. Some Out Of Character depictions are unavoidable considering the alternate universe setting.

Rating: M [In Australia that would be mature adult 15+] Not sure with the new rating system. Rated for murder and violence as well as adult concepts.

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. That's about as plain as you could say it.

Many thanks to the wonderful ShenLong Deb for betaing this chapter for me.

Summary: The world took a very different turn with the acknowledgement and training of select psychic individuals enlisted in elite fields such as law enforcement and politics. A grading system for the strength of psionic abilities was developed and those who were the top of the elite have been dubbed Prime Talents and are highly sought after. Elite institutions have been developed to mark, train and employ individuals with useable psionic talents. The colonies of canon Gundam Wing do exist in this fic and were founded before the psionic system was founded.

/…/ Thoughts

~/.../~ Telepathy

Chapter 40

A good nights sleep.

/Yeah, that would be good./

He was a step closer to it. The pain that had pounded within his head was much reduced compared to what it had been when he had stepped into the shower.

/I love little blue pills. Shit, thank you, who ever you are, who decided to have me room with empaths and telepaths./

A luxurious session soaking under sheeting hot spray with the shower head set to massage did wonders for the aches in muscles that had tightened in defence against pain that had not been purely physical. A careful massage while washing his hair, fingers kneading at his tender scalp with caution and careful calculation, further helped in relaxing him and easing the throbbing. A final long soak and body wash and then steady pressure from the massage setting as he rinsed himself off and he almost felt human.

But a shower, wonderful as it had been, did nothing to answer his questions. He had so many questions and he was not going to garner any answers standing under the seemingly never ending supply of hot water. He was not likely to get many answers tonight, but he should be able to have at least a few of his questions answered. At least he might get enough information out of Quatre to progress to a stage where he could guess at some answers.

With a low sigh he turned off the water, wrung the water as best he could from the sopping wet strands of his hair and stepped out of the cubicle to wrap his hair in a towel. It was always a nightmare drying his hair in that it took hours to accomplish and, given the hour of the night, he stared thoughtfully at the hair-dryer provided by the hotel as he wiped his body down. He really should consider using the hair-dryer in the interests of personal health-he did not want to catch a cold from sleeping in extremely wet hair-but neither did he particularly want to deal with the horrendous frizzy hair routine. Using a hair-dryer was guaranteed to give him all sorts of unwanted 'bad hair day' vibes.

"Duo? Are you alive in there or have you gone down the drain?"

Now that was cute, in a very Quatre way. He rubbed the towel over his head vigorously, discarded it and wrapped a dry towel in its place before wrapping his lower half in a dry towel and disposing of the two wet towels in the linen press for the staff to collect in the morning. He was sure the staff thought they ate towels in this suite the way they provided washing to be collected on a daily basis. Between himself, Zechs and Quatre they used at minimum nine towels in a single day. Tonight would be exceptional.

"Very funny, Kitty Kat. I'm feeling much better, thank you."

And it was no lie, he was feeling considerably better than he had been when he entered the suite. Those magic blue pills more than lived up to their reputation and he could think again without being sure his head would explode from the effort.

"I brought you some sweat pants as I didn't see you grab a change of clothes."

Clothes were a good idea as he had not given a thought to what he would wear once he dried himself down. "Ahh… yeah. Thanks for that. I wasn't thinking of anything but getting this head down to something approximating normal size. You can come in, I won't blind you with my naked magnificence."

Quatre chuckled as he opened the door and stepped inside. "You are feeling better."

"Yeah, I am. Much better as it happens. I could still do with a dose of the old Winner magic though."

Aqua blue eyes flashed at him along with a wide grin. "Oh I said better, not normal. I fully intend to work on you for a bit, at least enough to get you purring and ready to sleep."

"You sound sexy when you say that. I don't think Trowa would be too happy to hear you talking about getting anyone but him purring."

Quatre flushed a rich shade of pink at his teasing and followed it up with a wicked smile. "There is purring and then there is Purring. Has anyone really made you Purr, Duo?"

"Maybe. That's for me to know and you to NOT find out. How are they doing?"

'They' being the pair working in the sitting room, Quatre knew, and he inclined his head toward the room behind him.

"Quite well. There is not much for me to do except track their vital statistics and write down the notations for the Prime to look over when they stop working."

"How is Zechsy comparing to the Prime?"

Duo poked at the towel wrapped around his head and sighed, tossing it into the hamper and hunted around to find a third towel for his hair, wrapping it around his shoulders as he carefully gathered his hair and layered it over his shoulders in a bid to contain the drips.

Quatre's grin was almost parental as he extended a pair of grey training pants to Duo. "He's rock solid, Duo. His readings almost exactly mirror the Prime's. His Trainers could not help but be pleased with the readings I am logging. They'll see just how steady he can work, I have no doubt of that."

"They won't be too pleased with this whole thing. This kind of work is performed under controlled conditions in a laboratory, with a full monitoring team. You know it, Quatre, the Trainers and techs are going to go spare when they find out."

"I know, I know. I am well aware there will be repercussions from this, but Duo, I don't believe for an instant that Zechs will suffer for it. If anything I think this session with the Prime will make, not break, him."

Duo shook his head slowly. "I hope you are right."

"He needed immediate attention, specialist help. That kind of help is not easy to come by, not on short notice. Prime Khushrenada offered to help and you don't find a Prime T/E talent just anywhere."

"Yeah," Duo took the pants and stepped behind the shower screen to dress without disturbing his friend who, he knew, was rather body shy. "So you say. I'd like to know just why it was necessary in the first place and one of the things I most want to know, is how the hell that Prime just happened to be close by to do it, whatever 'it' is that he's doing."

"I am not entirely sure, but I would think what he would be doing is setting a shield; probably isolating, certainly containing, the memory. In the future Zechs can have someone access the repressed memory that is recurring more violently with each occasion it triggers. It is more intense each time it occurs and is harder to settle because it has not previously been dealt with, thus causing what can best be described as a panic attack, though it is not really a panic attack."

Duo blinked. "How long would… Huh? You said a repressed memory?"

"I am uncertain as to the correct terminology, but it is as good a word to describe it as anything. I received the impression from what the Prime said that it is rather a nasty memory as it quickly sends Zechs into what has mistakenly been diagnosed as a panic attack."

"So all the attacks in the past… were reaction to a memory? Not a reaction to the stuck up pricks digging at him?"

Quatre winced. "Language, Duo, and yes, I think so. Some memory from his past; something he has consciously forgotten about. The Prime believes he has been misdiagnosed and the panic reaction is not due to extreme stress given the change of environment he was thrust into and the outstanding sensitivity of his talent."

"Like I said, fancy pricks digging at him. So one of the trainers fucked up on the diagnosis? A head or two has to roll over that surely."

Quatre winced. "Language, Duo."

"Hey, I call 'em as I see 'em, Quatre and you have to admit, someone screwed up bad if this is a memory bothering Zechs the way it has been. It's been years since he was first diagnosed. Not one of his Trainers has picked up on it being anything but a reaction to a change of social status before. That means they assumed and no one looked deep enough into it to get it right." Duo's grin was positively feral. "That, as I have heard so often before, is a mistake one can not make with a high talent psi."

"If the Prime is right, and we'll know that soon enough, I guess. I do not doubt some questions will be asked and there may be a reprimand or two in the offing. Right now I am more concerned with you. I want to work with you and lower your stress levels a bit. Whatever happened to get you this tense?"

Duo paused in the doorway of the shower, before tossing the towel he had been wearing into the linen hamper. "Ah, well… I sort of… Well…"

How did he describe to Quatre what had happened, that he had been mentally influenced, without any safeguards or limitations set in place, by a first year student? In all honesty the Princess should not have been permitted off campus if her abilities were so untrained and powerful, and she had been leaving the campus regularly to his knowledge. Certainly this was not her first evening at the hotel charming the staff with Tsuberov's good manners and, as Duo thought of it, drumming up business amidst the rich and famous who had developing psi children.

And it said nothing for the strength of the shields surrounding his mind that he had thought, obviously mistakenly, were decent.

Quatre's eyes widened as he stared at his friend. "Duo? You are squirming! I don't think I've ever seen you do that before."

"Am not! Well, I guess you could say I… erm. I'm not really sure how to describe it. The Sanc Princess was all in a fluster and very demanding about coming up here to see Zechs.'

"Mmm, I sent her to you hoping with your irresistible charm you could get her attention off Zechs and give me some time to get him comfortable."

Duo scowled, rubbing absently at his right temple. His head was beginning to throb again. "Gee, thanks for that. Do you have any idea what her talent is, Quatre? Do you know just why she is here at Tsuberov?"

Quatre frowned, reaching for Duo's hair brush as his friend took the towel draped over his shoulders and rubbed vigorously at the trailing ends of his hair which was still dripping copious quantities of water down his back. He knew little of the psi abilities of the Sancian Royal Family, but he did recall that the King was a telepath with fairly strong 'suggestion' ability. He could clearly recall his father advising one of his executives, a moderate level telepath being sent to Sanc to initiate a business contract, to remember his shields at all time. It was considered manners amidst telepaths to maintain shields so as not to disturb another telepath, not solely to keep the contents of one's own mind secure and to ensure confidential information remained confidential. Which of these criteria had been bothering his father at the time Quatre was uncertain.

"I have no idea what the Princesses talent is, though I assume she is a telepath, perhaps with some small suggestion ability? I know the King is a Suggestor, of some notable degree of talent, I think. I have no idea what her mother is though. I would think she would be an empath or telepath given the King's talent. They would not want to introduce too many psi variants into a single bloodline."

Duo snorted softly. "Yeah, well, you could say that! Princess Relena is a Suggestor, and of no small ability, who has something less than a desirable level of control. The girl does not know her own strength!"

Aqua eyes widened slowly as the implications dawned on him and Quatre's mouth formed a perfect O as he stared at Duo.

"Oh. Oh, dear. That is not good."

"No, not good and certainly not pleasant in the aftermath! Otto interfered, as it happens, and I didn't even feel a thing until he stepped in… and then all I felt was sick. She didn't even know she was doing it, Quatre. Now I have the bitch of all headaches and all I want to do is sleep."

"Well, I am not surprised. Come on, I'll do what I can to settle things down for you and put you in a state receptive to sleep. I doubt you will be attending classes, at least the morning session tomorrow, and you should be checked over by a medic too, just to be sure. Otto will report this, he can't avoid it, and you can expect a full barrage of tests to make sure you took no harm."

Duo shrugged. "I feel better since I took those pills and had the shower. Ah, can I have my brush?"

"No." Quatre spun and returned to the sitting room. "You can get your butt in here and I'll work on your hair as I work on you. Brushing your hair will allow me easier access; act as a bridge to settle you. I expect you will get a visit from a technician and monitor from Tsuberov when Otto can get one through the Prime's guards."

"You know I don't like people touching my hair."

"Yes and I am not 'people'. I am your roommate and I am a high level empath who can use that contact and the repetition of the brushing action to merge with you and lower your stress levels. Do not give me any trouble Duo Maxwell! Get in here now."

Duo paused in the doorway. "Erm… Bossy, aren't you?"

"When I need to be."

Duo ambled out into the sitting room and wished the pants had pockets so he could stick his hands in. "Otto's outside still is he?"

"Yes, I checked a few minutes ago. He's talking to the Prime's bodyguards. They seem to have a lot to talk about and Otto is not looking exactly angry any more."

"I bet they have a lot to talk about. Otto does not like his turf being tromped on by size 12's other than his own."

Quatre grinned. "Come on, sit down there and I'll start to work on your hair. All I need for you to do is centre in for me as you do in a work session and don't try to block me out. I'll start with the hair and when I judge it to be the right time I'll move on to a massage until I decide you have reached an acceptable level."

"Sure." Duo settled on the floor amidst a pile of very expensive cushions Quatre had piled up into a rather haphazard nest. "Are you sure you can do this and still monitor them?"

"Yes, Duo. I'm quite sure. Now, centre in for me, please."

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They lingered in his awareness, Gabriella and the one she shielded from him, the one she insisted needed to share what he discovered. He was unhappy with their presence, or rather, with the unknown's presence, considering him a potential threat not only to Marquise but also to himself. He did not like the idea of anyone invading the inner sanctum of working psi's and he was almost certain that Gabriella, being Gabriella, would not come through with her promise to explain the necessity of this stranger's presence; at least not in the short term. It would come as no surprise to him when she found a convenient excuse to put off the explanation.

Would he allow that though?

He trusted her, but there were limits and it was Gabriella herself who had taught him the boundaries of acceptable risk. Her presence in the link was not really enough of an excuse to take the risk out of the contact. He was more than unhappy with what she assured him was the necessity of the moment.

Her touch extended, light, fleeting and she kept the stranger isolated behind shields as she eased out of the link. No parting comments, no assurances she would tell him what he needed to know, why it was 'necessary' he permit the contact. He trusted her but... In a momentary fit of pique he flashed at her his discontent and as the last of the contact faded he knew she was aware of the issue of trust now strained between them.

She would not like that.

She was gone then, out of his conscious awareness though the bond linking them one to the other remained. She had been his mentor, his friend, in many ways a loving grandmother. The bond was there and it would remain linking them until death separated them. But that bond was not the trust he had in her and the trust could be damaged where the bond remained intact. He could only hope his discontent, so plainly passed to her through the link, would ensure she offered at least some kind of explanation to him.

~/Treize?/~

He would give more thought to her and her 'friend' when he had the time and opportunity to dance around unanswered questions. It was dissatisfying though. So many things were being pushed aside for later attention, personal, private and case related, but he would not short the young man who gave the impression he was watching with worried eyes. His discontent, his discomfort, or his distraction had been noticed. Perhaps all three?

~/It's alright, Zechs. Gabriella just took her leave. I will compare notes with her at a later time and, with your permission, we can discuss how best to approach the matter of reading this cluster of memories so that it is less distressing for you. I suppose we should follow Gabriella's example and call it quits for the night./~

~/I suppose so. Quatre's probably worried. He does the whole worry thing really well. I... Thank you. For taking the time to help me with these… memories./~

Again that flash of insecurity, the need not to be a bother. In light of the revelations concerning his past Treize was beginning to understand that insecurity. The child Zechs, well, Milliardo as he was then, had shown it quite clearly; the need to please, to not be a bother, to stay in the background unnoticed and unremarked upon. What might this young man have been like had he not had a childhood which revealed itself to be that of one being actively hunted? He had not fit in with the foster families and, Treize suspected, Zechs had had problems at the orphanage and his term there had been less than a success.

Really, hard as it had been for him, Treize was certain that Tsuberov was the best thing that could have happened to him.

~/It is no bother and with your consent I intend to continue to work with you to sort out the memory cluster. With time and a little effort we can place the memories in the correct context and understand your past a little more. You should not fall into the trap of first impressions. What we think we see and hear may not, in the full light of the picture, be the reality. There are undoubtedly subtle nuances we have missed and other memories that will clarify what we have witnessed. And Zechs, please, stop worrying about what your instructors are going to say about this incident. I assure you the Prime's will handle the fallout. You are not alone against the system. We Primes look out for our own, and you, Zechs, are one of us./~

He put effort into projecting just the right amount of warmth and assurance, laving the younger man with the certainty that he was not alone and isolated before checking the seal on the memory cluster. The rag tag memories were isolated within a cocoon of protections, and when he felt the younger man relax with his assurance he offered up a final parting touch and separated himself from the consciousness of the budding Prime. Marquise was shifting his awareness as he separated himself, seeking out the solidity of their physical forms and the discomfort that would go with them.

Treize was more than pleased with the younger man's work and he was well aware Gabriella had also been impressed by his work and his willingness to be supervised. And those diamond shields! She was singularly hard to impress but this young man had succeeded where others had failed, but there was something else. There was something different, something hidden in her regard for Marquise that he found curious. There was something in how she looked at that young man and how she feathered her attention about him that was different.

He would have to wait until he could speak to her directly but he would get answers. She would not make getting those answers easy and just how extensive those answers might be… well, nothing came easily when Gabriella was involved. However, even the hardest rock wore away to the persistent nature of the wind and rain and he could be patient, relentless with it, and persistent. He could be all of those things and more, if he needed to be.

And she did not want to destroy his trust in her.

"...keep your head down and your eyes closed, Duo. It's okay, just let the peace fill you. You do not need to be concerned about anything that happens around you for the next few minutes. It has nothing to do with you, no cause for you to be worried. Zechs is stirring and I need to leave you for a few minutes to check him. That's right, just relax and let yourself drift. I will still have a monitoring link to you so you can let yourself rest."

Quatre Winner. Soft voice, tone pervasive and laced with relaxants backed by a considerable empathic talent.

Sound was always the first of his senses to restore itself in his mental awareness. It was shattering, devastating to come from the freedom of physical restrictions and the constraints of gravity that was the psychic plane, to find oneself once more bound to the solidity and restriction of flesh. How many young psi's had experienced astral freedom or the plunge deep into themselves that was purely of the mind with wild joy and failed to cope with the return to their fleshy sheathe?

Death. Insanity. The loss of motor functions. The moment when the mind rejoined with the body was a critical juncture in any psi activity. And was monitored carefully.

For him it was always a gradual experience, no rude, abrupt plunge from weightlessness to the crushing solidity of flesh. He chose to come to himself by feeling his senses return in measured stages. Sound always returned quickly and he took the advent of it to feel for, and ground himself, to his physical sheath. Muted sound at first though it always seemed to be a cacophony that must send him insane, but it steadied quickly to tolerable levels and left him looking for more sensation.

Fleeting contact... some 'thing' flowing over his senses. A moment only to recognise the touch as a controlled sweep of psi awareness; the skilled touch of a high talent and well trained empath. A monitoring touch, quickly and efficiently flicking over his pulse and respiration. Identity came with the touch, a quiet whisper of identity offered and soothing to forestall distress before it could become dangerous to himself or the Winner.

Quatre Winner. He recognised the psi performing as a professional monitor for a session would. He could only approve the boy's professionalism. Tsuberov trained its students well and, though Quatre was nowhere near completing his training, he was still adept at this particular task.

"Prime? You can hear me?"

` Speech was, as yet, beyond him, but it would return soon. He offered what he could, a flicker of consciousness, assurance, as he allowed his physical weight to take him and ground him. He could hear the rushing of blood through his veins, feel the pounding of his heart, feel the bellows action and reaction of his lungs filling and emptying with air. Next came the uncomfortable sensation that informed him his physical self would appreciate a visit to the bathroom and the definite reaction of his stomach to a substantial work session. He was hungry.

Something would have to be done about that just as soon as he sorted out what part of his physiology worked with whichever part of his brain cared to claim ownership.

"Zechs? Don't try to get up yet. Can you hold your hands out for me?"

Think breathing. Think controlling breathing. One long slow breath. A second. Deepen the breath on three… one… two. Heart beat... Steady thumping and the rush of his own blood now was not so noticeable...yes, all was progressing as it should on his prescribed recovery routine. He could hear and he could feel his body and he could… yes, he could see.

He recognised the room. Five star hotel sitting room... Stunning blonde with the crystal blue eyes holding his hands out before him, the faintest of trembles just visible in the long fingers. Short haired blonde in attendance, kneeling by the couch... Yes, he knew where he was.

"I want you to take a little longer before you move, Zechs. Let me check with the Prime before we check your motor functions. Prime Khushrenada… ah, good. Can you see me clearly?"

The smaller blonde was facing him now, aqua blue eyes intense with concentration as he made quick notations on a piece of paper set on the coffee table. A quick glance and he noted the Winner was listing the prescribed checks and responses for later study. The boy was professional in his demeanour and Treize was pleased by that. It would help dealing with Tsuberov's management as they settled this situation.

"Quite clearly, Mr. Winner." Ah, his voice worked. Good. He could do with a drink, but that could wait for the moment. He extended his hands without being asked, gratified to see the fingers were steady, no trace of a tremble. "How long did the session take?"

"Approximately four hours, sir. It's about one thirty I think."

Treize inclined his head slightly. "Could you call my bodyguard in, please? I need to have a word with them."

There had been an anomaly... something different about the room...? Ah. There was a lean shape stretched over the floor, long streams of rich chestnut hair spread out in a sea around him. Treize blinked, more than a little surprised at the display. The hair almost totally covered the boy to his upper thighs, and Treize only caught the odd glimpse of his naked torso. He was clad only in sweat pants, his feet bare and his body stretched comfortably over the nest of cushions, his face turned away.

"Mr. Maxwell?"

"I've been helping Duo overcome a headache." Quatre explained as he straightened, moving toward the door leading to the hallway. "There was an incident and he was a bit… stressed."

Treize scowled, head lifting a little from watching the sleeping youth to sweep to Quatre as his hand reached for the latch.

"My guards do not usually make a habit of stressing out psi's other than myself. What…?"

"Oh, it had nothing to do with your guards, sir. It was nothing to do with your people at all. They were quick to get Duo into the suite and away from everyone else." Quatre opened the door and poked his head out into the hallway. "Excuse me. The Prime would like a word with you, please."

Quatre backed away from the door and moved to stand behind Zechs, extending a finger tip touch to his shoulder after a low murmur to garner the older blonde's consent to physical touch. Treize knew what Quatre was doing, a full reading of his friends awareness of his physical body, checking for any stress that might linger, and he wondered if the Winner would dare to request the same thing of him.

"Your Grace?"

He snapped his attention back to the tall man standing beside him. "Michael, call room service and order us a decent meal, please. Enough for everyone. It would be best if you send a message to the office advising I will not be in until afternoon. We should be ready to leave here in an hour or so and I will want a word with who ever is in charge of the Tsuberov students this evening."

"Sir. The Security Chief for Tsuberov would like a few words with you."

Treize grinned wickedly, knowing how understated Michael could be, and Otto had made quite an impression on Treize over their past meetings. The clash between his bodyguard and the Security Chief for Tsuberov might have been rather spectacular, he suspected. Pity he had missed it.

"I am sure he would. You can send him in, but do request he keep his voice down and that he contains his natural inclination to snarl. I think young Mr. Maxwell and Zechs would appreciate the restraint. I know I would."

Quatre was standing behind him as his guard slipped from the room and he could easily enough read the unease in the young man. He waited a moment, wondering if the boy would have the gumption to speak up.

"Prime Khushrenada, if I might have the privilege of touching you?"

Brave boy and well aware of the duties of a psi monitor. Treize was pleased and he knew Gabriella would be too, that the Winner had braved the Prime in the interests of a monitors duties. This one might be the Winner heir, but he would be a Prime empath if not T/E Prime. His father might have plans for him, but Gabriella had her own plans involving the up and coming generation of talent.

"Indeed you may, Quatre."

"Finger tips first, please."

He needed to demonstrate he could feel, that his sense of touch would allow him to function and assist in picking up items, then progress on to motor functions until his monitor of record was satisfied he had mastery over his physical form. He would need to deal with Otto whilst Quatre ran the gamut of prescribed tests.

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"If you dare to think too old you are getting for shenanigans of this sort, Gabriella will be thanking you to say it not. Gabriella is more than aged above you to say it first."

She could almost hear the creaks and cracks that were not sourced within her own body and belonged to the man she had, if reluctantly, permitted to share in the merge. The pair of empaths chosen to monitor them during the session moved competently about them, well trained and confident in their abilities. She had given consideration to undergoing the merge without the benefits of a monitor, in the interests of security, but in the end she had discarded the idea. Though she would be loathed to admit it to anyone, she was not as young as she used to be and having a competent monitor was a sensible precaution.

Not that she would be inclined to admit her failing body to certain people any more than she was likely to admit she had entertained the idea of foregoing the monitor. Had it been any of the other Primes and she learned they considered working without appropriate attendants, she would have bent their ears and bruised their backsides for their idiocy.

"I think it rather selfish of you to claim advancing age as your sole province and not share it with others."

She inclined her head to a quiet question from her monitor questioning her sense of touch. "Yes. Fingers feeling is tingle free. If making you so old is this work, then pass it on you should be to younger bodies. "

She could see her monitor smirk, her back to the man stretched on the other couch and guessed few would dare to speak to him in such a tone. Ah, but She was Gabriella and Gabriella dared where others whimpered and snivelled. Before she was done in Sanc the palace would rock to the repercussions of her presence. They would be very glad to see the back of her for another twenty years.

"I might be aging, Madam, and gracefully I might add, but senile I am not. While my facilities are intact I shall continue to perform my duties."

The Gypsy winked at her monitor, for all of her aches and pains she was in a relatively good mood. "Suggesting senile is Gabriella are we? Cheeky child you were, and nothing has changed I am understanding."

She knew him too well to think he would be in the least bit offended. She could call him a choice variety of names and insults and he would take it in stride. He was one of the one's with gumption and she liked him, though she was not about to reveal that. Not after the past, not after the mistakes that had been made and the lives that had been shattered.

Her mistakes. His mistakes. Others paid the price for their mistakes and no repeat could be permitted.

"I have heard it mentioned on past occasions that I take after my maternal grandmother, Madam. She is said to possess a fathomless wellspring of cheek."

Oh yes, she did like him. A low murmur from her monitor and Gabriella inclined her head, permitting the woman to lay a finger tip to her forehead and monitored the sweep of the woman's ability. She had a light 'touch' and Gabriella could not fault her performance.

The touch withdrew and the woman added her final notations to the report on Gabriella's condition after the work session, giving up the report to the old woman at the flick of a small wrinkled hand.

"Thanking you I am for your work and eating will we be in a few minutes."

It never failed to amaze her how polite the attendants in Sanc were. Of course this was the house of an old family of royalty and one expected certain standards to be met in such places, but the Sancian household seemed to go that extra distance to distinguish themselves from the houses of nobility across Europe.

"I shall have balanced servings provided, Ma'am."

She watched the woman withdraw and ran her eye over the notations, considering her statistics through the session and the aftermath. All in all, given her advanced years, she was, as usual, exceptional. Of course the readouts were not as good as they had been years ago, but what could one expect given her advancing age? A fortune was being spent on keeping her healthy, but eventually the pull of time would be too much and even Gabriella must fade.

But not quite yet.

"That young Prime of yours…. He was not amused."

Now that was indisputably an understatement and her Naughty Boy presented her with a dilemma. It had taken her a great deal of time and effort to build up the level of trust she enjoyed with her Khushrenada, he had not been the most trusting of souls when first they had met. The constraints of his family, their expectations and demands of him and their refusal to understand his spirit and his burgeoning psi talents, had conditioned him to be less than forthcoming. It had taken her time and considerable effort to gain his full trust and have him believe she could route the intentions of his family and grant him the freedom to choose his own way.

It had not been easy and she enjoyed his trust and the relationship they shared and she was not pleased this placed strains on that understanding.

"Understanding that you do? Good. Making it easier it will to resolve certain issues. Gabriella is not intending to upset her standing with him to suit the petty machinations of Sanc's political correctedness. Gabriella amuses herself every day with thumbing her nose at political correctedness."

"Political 'correctness', Madam, and I have explained the..."

Gabriella waved aside the comment, considering the man sitting on the couch as his monitor performed the last of the barrage of required tests for the depth and time of their work. He was a proud man, one who was reared to be fiercely loyal to the Royal Family. He would not appreciate her casting aspirations on the King, but she had an agenda and he would have to learn, again, that Gabriella would bow to no one.

"Naughty Boy is of much importance to Gabriella and remember it you will. Wanting many questions answered when Gabriella returns he will, and decide we must how best to placate him we will before Gabriella is leaving Sanc. What best it is to tell him and what best it is not to tell him, these things must be determined. Trust hard won Gabriella will not forsake for petty politics." Her dark eyes smouldered as she captured his. "And all politics is petty measured against keeping trust with Gabriella."

The lean form straightened slowly from the couch, long legs swinging over the side to pause and he worked carefully to stretch out a constricted muscle in his left shoulder at the direction of his monitor. The empath at his side held a hand a hairs breadth above his heart as he stretched to her direction and after a moment she nodded, stepping away and focusing her attention to complete her report.

"You are functioning within normal parameters, sir. I would suggest you enjoy a spa before retiring for the night and after the depth of the session I strongly suggest, sir, that you do sleep."

"Thank you."

Gabriella held out her hand for the report on her companion and the monitor bowed to her, gliding out of the room at a dismissing flick of gnarled fingers. If there were any questions she was well aware she would be recalled and given the two involved in the session it was best to make oneself scarce quickly. The door closed behind her and Gabriella bent her head to quickly scan the chart and the old gypsy frowned at the statistics.

She had not realised he had heart problems. It was, in light of the report before her, no surprise his monitor had taken such time and care with the scans and tests. Though they had been well monitored, and he took medication to control the problem, he should have informed her of the potential risk to his health. He might have suffered a heart attack during the session if his monitor had become distracted.

"Reminding you again I am to be honest with Gabriella. Fine it would have looked if dropped dead you did on the couch."

He ran a hand through his salt and pepper hair, feeling the coarseness of the grey strands that once had been dark and lustrous. In his youth he had been quite a dashing figure and certainly he had pleased the eye of many a young lady. His fingers brushed along his moustache, revelling in the sheer pleasure of the sensation that was touch. He had never particularly enjoyed leaving his awareness of his body behind, but for this particular piece of work there had been no one else he would have trusted.

In the aftermath of the session everything felt different. He needed to reassure himself that his physical attributes were as he had known them to be; how people could revel in the psi reality over physical reality he could not understand. Admittedly he could do without the ache his old bones and muscles generated from the physical inactivity and tension he always held himself under during high level psi work. The pain and tension was the result of his advancing age, nothing more, and at least the aches were familiar, if not a little more intense than normal. Consciously he knew the intensity of the pain was only an effect of being pain free for so long in the merge with Gabriella.

He could only marvel at the old woman and how she dealt with her advanced years and intense psi work. He ached from physical inactivity, despite a competent monitors undivided attention, and he was a hatchling in comparison to Gabriella. That spa sounded like heaven, but first he must deal with the matters at hand. If he was lucky he would find his bed for a few hours, at the least a couch. As usual when she graced Sanc with her presence, she stirred up trouble.

A tap on the door forestalled any comment and a servant responded to his permission, entering the room and bowing low, more to the old woman than to him. She was legend, that formidable old lady, and he was not looking forward to the verbal barrage she would subject him to at some point. If not now, this evening, then it would come in the daylight hours; it was not a case of if, but when. He only hoped he could put it off for a few hours and gain the benefit of a few hours rest.

He wanted nothing more than to find some solitude and his bed, but Gabriella would not allow it… not that he could allow himself that luxury with work still to do. He might want it, but there was far too much to do if they were going to get answers to the questions raised by this nights work.

"There is a meal prepared for you in the adjacent room, as specified by the monitors in attendance. It is requested that you eat everything." A low bow at the flick of dismissal from his hand and they were, once more, left in peace.

Gabriella creaked her way to her feet resting one hand on the arm of her couch for a moment before straightening up. He flinched at the dry crack of her joints and the artfully colourful verbal abuse that flavoured the air in response. She was so very much older than he and only her irascible nature stopped one from realising just how old she was. Taking her arm gently he escorted her into the next room, ignoring the creaking of his own frame, and to the table where the meals and drinks awaited their attention. Each separate meal catered exactly to the needs of the individual to replenish the expenditure of calories the session had required.

"That Prime of yours. I am right in supposing he is the young Duke who defied convention and went against his family to make a career for himself in law enforcement?"

"Treize Jean Alistair Bartholomew Kristian Khushrenada. Gabriella's beloved Naughty Boy. If fifty years younger have that one warming my bed I would."

At his arched eyebrow Gabriella winked, considering her plate before reaching for the protein shake. He considered his own meal and decided she had it right. Drink first, one of three set before him and then he would work himself up to actually eating.

"Naughty Boy?"

"Is most appropriate name assuring you I am, and being saddled with birth name like that, explains why such a naughty boy he was."

It was hard to contain his amused grin, but one was never quite sure if it was safe to smile around her or not. "I was under the impression his sexual preferences leaned toward the male gender."

"Pffft! This would stop Gabriella how? Fifty years ago Gabriella would have chased that one for more than his mind."

Pagan snorted softly, seeing the Prime was settled comfortably into her seat as any proper gentleman would before moving to his own seat. Fifty years ago, eh? He was in his sixties now and the old woman, he recalled, had been strikingly handsome then. Perhaps it was no idle boast on her part. Unless he wanted a list of her conquests it might, he mused, pay to change the subject.

"I sometimes wonder what parents are thinking when they name their offspring, particularly those unfortunate enough to be born of the nobility. It is all well and good to honour past family members, but sometimes that can be taken to extremes."

"Amusing parents on stormy nights when child has a bore been, I am thinking." A sip of the thick creamy liquid and her sharp eyes centred on him. "In the morning giving Gabriella the file on handsome young buck who escorted her this morning you will be. Liking that one I am."

Dark eyes flicked up to clash with her piercing gaze, the glass poised mid way to his mouth. "You can't have him."

Too white teeth flashed in her wrinkled, swarthy face. "Oh, so this one is of interest to you, eh?"

"No... Yes. You can not set your sights on stealing him. He is one of Stephan's favourites and I can not see the King being willing to give up young Adrian. Not even to you."

The old woman snorted softly, setting her half full glass aside. "One of mine he is, like you. Making no mistake is Gabriella. One of mine he is and better will he be beneath Gabriella's care than stuck here in cold stones and tied by restrictions older than Gabriella's great granddame."

"Grandmother, he is…"

The raising of a single wrinkled, swollen knuckled finger silenced him. The carefully manicure nail glinted in the light as it stabbed the air at him.

"Yes, grandmother Gabriella is and best you remember it. Older and wiser is this head than any other in Sanc and know things does Gabriella even Pagan of Sanc knows not. Old things; things not yet come to pass but coming. Gabriella knows them all. Shadows move in many places; people whispering behind close doors they are, but nothing escapes Gabriella. Once it did, once Gabriella faltered and grandchildren suffered because Gabriella was distracted, but no more. Not after my lovely Crystabelle. No blood of Gabriella will escape Gabriella's notice. Leaving them to others no longer will an option be."

"My daughter… What happened to her is still unknown and is likely never to be known. Yes, there may be something in the memories of this young man which will answer our questions, but equally there may be no useable answers there to be found! Grandmother, why do you single out Adrian? Why do you want him? There are others besides Adrian in Sanc who carry your bloodline. Why not one of them?"

"And all of them will be known face to face with Gabriella come the new day. Face to face, not names and pictures on paper. This bright boy you name as Adrian, go he will with Gabriella and stay he will with Gabriella. Find his niche he will and protection with it. How many more, Pagan? How many like this Adrian are above level four and have not trained to their full potential? This Gabriella will know before noon of new day and that one, perhaps others, will not be tied to this place."

Oh, he had known her appearance would bring trouble, but he had not guessed she would appear and demand to take custody of those who carried her bloodlines! She was impossible. How did she think she could just appear and uproot people from their homes and carry them off to God knew where?

"You can't just waltz in here, grandmother, and rearrange Sanc to suit your fancy!"

"Underestimate grandmother at your peril, stripling! Told you Gabriella did twenty years ago, when last she walked these streets, that never would I allow another to meet Her fate at the whims of porcine old arseholes who profess to know what is best."

"You became an old arsehole yourself!"

Ah, there it was, his backbone. She had wondered if she would see it. He had taken her unannounced presence calmly, cooperated with her and insisted on knowing what she knew. Only now was he showing a spine in answering back to her and, thankfully, it was in defence of the young ones. It appeared he might have learned from the past.

"Old arsehole with heart, thanking you kindly to get it right Gabriella will be. Sit. Eat. Shut up until plate half empty is. Talk we will later."

The glare was commendable, somehow managing to be polite and molten at the same time. She was quite impressed with the expression and determined to practise it herself. It could put a few people she knew on the back foot, but she would not allow him to know she was impressed.

"Did you stop to think that Adrian might not want to go with you? This is his home. He has family here, a place, a future in the service."

"A convenience to be used by the Crown and a back up source of good genes, nothing more is any of the young ones. Engaged already is he? Breaking political attachments Gabriella will be and out of this place I will see him before key in final lock on chains is turned. Free of it to develop his full potential he will be, just like my Sexy Eyes will be."

He sucked in a hissed breath, staggered by the implications. "Grandmother! You can't! You can't touch that one any more than you can take Adrian. Stephan has plans for him."

"Stephan can stick his plans up Khyber Pass. Pass salt."

Karina Robertson 2011

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Notes

Duo Maxwell: Psi Student , 3rd year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Level 8 Psychokinetic ability, projected level 9. Sending Telepath Level 5. Colony of Origin L2 Cluster [ 18 years of age] Sweeper adoptee. Under pre contract agreement with Sweepers.

Quatre Rababer Winner: Psi student, 2nd year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Current Level 5 Telepath, projected Level 7, Current Level Receiving Empath 9.3, projected Level 10, Prime. Current Sending Empath Level 2, projected Level 4. Colony of Origin, L4 Cluster [18 years of age]

Treize Kushrenada : Level 10 Sending/Receiving Telepath + Receiving and Projecting Empath at Level 10. Prime rated. Agency Operative contracted term of 5 years with 2 years remaining. [25yrs of age] Training facility: Psychic Institute Munich Division.

Zechs Marquise: Psi Student 5th year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Level 10 Receiving/Projecting Empath [approaching Prime Designation] + Level 9 Sending /Receiving Telepath, Projected L10 function. Finder function suspected, not officially registered. Country of origin, Luxemburg. [20 years of age]

Michael Turner: Level 4 Sending/Level 5 Receiving Telepath. Psychic Institute, Washington Division [age 35 yrs] Assigned Chief Bodyguard to Treize Khushrenada, Agency Prime.

Gabriella : Romany descent. Level 10 Sending / Receiving Telepath + Level 10 Receiving and Projecting Empath. Prime Rated. Training facility rumored to be Government Laboratories of the Prussian Republic deposed in the year AC 45. Age: Unknown [rumored to be approximately seventy four]. Oldest of the Prime Telepathic Empaths.

Jonothan Heinrich Pagan, 5th Marquis: Level 4 Send / Receive Telepath private training Sanc. Age 60

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Hi there

My sincere apologies for the length of time it has taken to get this chapter of Agency written. Real life is crunching rather hard at the present time and writing time is in short supply but there will be more chapters of all the fics being worked on forthcoming. It will just take a little longer between chapters than I'm really happy with.

Friends and Enemies is the next to be worked on for those following that fic and then Alternatives. I'll post as soon as I can. Hope you enjoy.

Karina


	41. Chapter 41

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 41/?

Author: Karina

Pairings 13x6 [eventual], 5xS [established], 3x4, Others undecided at this time.

Archive: Gundam Wing Universe []

Gundam Wing Diaries [-wing-diaries. ]

Website address change

If anybody would like to archive The Agency, just drop me a line. There are betaed chapters on my hard drive if you want them.

Warnings: Extreme Alternate Universe setting. Aussie spelling, not much else in the early chapters though it will involve murder, stalking and possibly some colourful language down the track. Some Out Of Character depictions are unavoidable considering the alternate universe setting.

Rating: M [In Australia that would be mature adult 15+] Not sure with the new rating system. Rated for murder and violence as well as adult concepts.

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. That's about as plain as you could say it.

Many thanks to the wonderful ShenLong Deb for betaing this chapter for me.

Summary: The world took a very different turn with the acknowledgement and training of select psychic individuals enlisted in elite fields such as law enforcement and politics. A grading system for the strength of psionic abilities was developed and those who were the top of the elite have been dubbed Prime Talents and are highly sought after. Elite institutions have been developed to mark, train and employ individuals with useable psionic talents. The colonies of canon Gundam Wing do exist in this fic and were founded before the psionic system was founded.

/…/ Thoughts

~/.../~ Telepathy

Agency: Meeting of Souls

Chapter 41

When he could manage to think clearly he had despaired of ever reaching the sanctuary of his apartment. He had, for the longest time this day, craved the solitude, the security and the state of the art shielding of his home. In particular he craved the luxury of his bed and the promise of the comforting void he could fall into.

Sleep. A gentle void, always welcoming to him, a warming embrace that was more than merely desired following the rigours of the day… and the horror of the night just past.

/I might… I might have been able to… make a difference./

It had been a far longer day than he had anticipated. His plans to enjoy a relatively early night, including a decent meal, some meditation time and that desired decent nights sleep, had all crumbled to dust. When exactly was the point he had lost control of his life? Somewhere during the long stretch of the day; no, no it was in the early evening he had lost his control over his time.

His mistake had been in deciding to take an evening stroll.

First there had been the instance of tapping into the 'presence', the distinctive psi signature of the Stalker from the Tsuberov case. When he had tapped into that unmistakable presence he had not expected the disruption to his plans would be so… thorough. A simple evenings walk in the park, a little spot of 'people watching' in a less than crowded place, that was all he had intended.

That was what he lamented in the darkest hours of the early morning. He could not find Him then, in the park when he had 'touched', so fleetingly, that distinctive mind and, search as he had, he could find no trace of the individual that signature was unique to.

His failure. A missed opportunity the cost of which was to be measured in precious human life.

Blood. Rich, dark crimson splattered over filth, filling his vision, filling his mind. The stench filling his nostrils…

If they could only have found him!

If he had managed to tag the bastard at the park it was possible they might have saved an innocent life. How many more must die because he failed?

Treize leaned his back against the cool shower tiles and closed his eyes, tilting his head up to allow the blessedly hot spray to wash over his face. Nothing, nothing at all, would ever be able to erase the horror. Not even the hottest shower could hope to wash away the stench and contamination of death.

How could the night have ended so… so…

His gut churned, roiling in upset, threatening violent eruption… and there was nothing left to throw up. His throat burned, and his abdominal muscles ached from the violent retching he had already practised.

Everything had gone wrong. Everything. After he had dealt with that irascible bastard, Heinrich Otto, the night had fallen into chaos, disorder and blood… so much blood.

It was no longer one of the three students who were in danger from this Stalker. Every student at Tsuberov, every teacher, every member of staff was walking a fine line… and they did not know it. Every citizen of the city was in danger from the horror that now walked unseen and unknown in their midst.

Gabriella.

He needed her. He needed help, her help, to settle the… signature event… from disrupting his day to day abilities. It would be a day, two at the most before she returned if he called her, and call her he must, he knew that. She would help him deal with the residual echo that otherwise would haunt his life and quickly bring him to insanity. A day. Two days perhaps. That was all he needed to endure. Just wait and function adequately until she returned.

He must contain his reaction to the murder, hold on to his perceptions and barrier himself against the Killer's persona, and above all he must not alert the other Primes, beyond Gabriella, to his teetering control. He dare not attract the other Prime talents to the city. It was too dangerous with Him walking the streets to have more Primes exposed to danger.

The stench was pervasive, the smell of the alley clung to him, despite the steaming hot water and no matter how he scrubbed at himself. It stuck in his nasal passages, lodged in his mouth and the back of his throat, contributing to the nausea that threatened to send him into stomach cramping retching yet again. The reek was so bad that he doubted even liberally dousing himself with the most offensively potent and cheap aftershave he could buy would shift the stench out of his nostrils.

The night had not gone as he had expected from the time he had entered the city park. Losing the Stalker after touching him, even for so brief a time, had led to horrors he could not have imagined. He had not a single regret about answering the confusion and pain he sensed through his link with Marquise; it had been the right thing to do. He was a Prime and with the title and power came distinct responsibilities. What had annoyed him, and had delayed him to the point where he had begun to despair he would not be departing the hotel until dawn, was the way Otto had behaved in the aftermath.

The man had been in his face, ignoring Psi protocol, demanding to know what he had thought he was doing. There were rules at the University, rules for the safety of the students. He was supposed to be a Prime and as such he was supposed to be aware of the value of rules and regulations… the man had gone on and on, himself breaking every rule there was for dealing with a Prime level telepathic empath.

Had he been any less of a Prime level talent he would have taken Heinrich Otto's rules and regulations and shoved them physically so far up where the sun could not shine that the man would have had a foul taste in his mouth. Blessings on Michael for reminding the man just who he was and where they were before he could further besmirch the good name of a Prime.

He sighed softly, squeezing more gel onto the loofah, scrubbing at his body, trying yet again to wash away the stench and the filth with it that had to be clinging to him for the smell to be so bad.

In all fairness, he supposed, it was not actually that man's fault. He had to admit that should their roles have been reversed he would be just as pissy if someone had come from the 'outside' and stamped all over his territory. Otto had made it quite plain that he had not appreciated having his students involved in what he politely termed 'shady dealings'. Unauthorised work sessions were banned for Tsuberov students and, if there was a problem with one of the students why had a medical team not been summoned as proper protocol demanded?

Fair enough too, Treize sighed, rinsing himself down and sinking to his knees beneath the spray when his skin felt raw and physically washing himself seemed too much of an effort. There were protocols for everything in this world, even when and where one was permitted to scratch one's arse. There were protocols and the title of Prime was not a licence to ignore the rules every Psi was required to live by in modern society.

But it helped.

Otto had, following his tirade, insisted on having a medical team brought in from Tsuberov and having the three young men examined to ensure they had taken no harm.

As if he would ever permit harm to befall one of them!

It was an insult to his professional pride and Otto had no idea how close he had come to having a punch in the nose that would have been made up of an entirely telepathic slam directly to his brain… but then that really would have been a breach of etiquette and Treize prided himself on being a professional.

Zechs had trusted him.

That trust, given honestly and openly, was the highlight of his evening. The high point of his day. Gaining insight into what had shaped that particular young man had filled him with a growing warmth and awareness. Sadly it was an awareness that he knew was dangerous. Dangerous but, like a moth circling ever closer to naked flame, he could not bring himself to turn away.

He knew, one day, that he would approach that young man and it would be in no way a conversation on professional ethics or duties. It would be polite, it would be proper in every aspect, and it would be utterly personal on his part. Zechs Marquise had quite captured his attention and he was, in this vulnerable moment in the aftermath of horror, feeling a little bit selfish. Thinking of socially approaching the man, of charming him, of hopefully having his interest returned, made him feel warmer, more comfortable. More human.

Just now, he needed that small selfish comfort.

He had failed. Another death.

There was a second person who had run foul of their target. While he had been engaged at the hotel, learning something of the childhood of a very pleasant young man who through no fault of his own, appeared to be the centre of another mystery, an innocent bystander had died at the hands… mind… of the Stalker.

Horribly. Painfully. It was not a quick death or an easy one.

It was the same man, the one they were hunting who had an unhealthy interest in one of the three young men he had been with. He had no doubt as to the identity of the killer, though as yet he did not know Who that person was. He had no face, no name to tell him the personal identity of the man, but he knew him. He knew the touch of the man, the insanity that was growing. There was too much he did not know, but what he knew with certainty was that He was getting stronger and more out of control, and that his fall from grace was progressing with frightening rapidity.

Twice he had killed, on both occasions he had killed using psychic talent; and neither death had been an easy demise for his victims.

The out of control Psi nature of the man and his utter lack of control, might have been a side effect of what Treize prayed was a drug induced talent. To think that a Psi talent in his right mind could kill as this Stalker was… each kill was more extreme that the previous. But the thought of drugs capable of producing such a monster circulating out in the streets was horrifying.

"Sir?"

"Just give me a few minutes. I'm alright."

He was not alright, far from it, but he would be… eventually. When he could stop himself from shaking, when he could convince his gut to stop cramping, when he could get the killer and his victim out of his mind…

He would be.

His bodyguards had not left him and he did not want to be alone. He could not stand to be alone, without distractions from the rising tide of memory that was not simply memory. He WAS the Killer as he killed, he WAS the Victim as he was murdered… He was all of them, the street walker who had found the murder scene, the first police to arrive on the scene, the forensics officers who needed to examine the scene… He was all of them.

He was afraid of losing himself in their horror, in their instinctive rejection of what they witnessed, in their every reaction to the sight, the smells…

He was not alone and normally he did not like having company in his apartment at any time. Tonight… well, this morning, really, the sun was well up now. It was a new day and one he really did not feel he could face. He was supposed to be at Tsuberov later this morning to re interview that agent of Otto's. There was something she had witnessed that he could not put his finger on, and he needed to understand what it was. He needed to work with her and he had not slept and he was, quite frankly, exhausted.

"Sir, I received a call from Commander Une. Dr Po is on her way to see you."

Sally. He had told her he was going home for an early night and she would be anything but amused-and his partner would be anything but happy by her being dragged out so early in the morning. He was not up to dealing with Wu Fei sniping all day.

"Fine. How long?"

Not yet, he would not yet have to deal with anyone but his guards… and the Doctor shortly. Chang would not come with her, the ire of his partner would be something for him to look forward to later today… and probably every day thereafter for the remainder of the week. Chang would not let him forget and would likely treat the call out as a personal insult though it had nothing to do with him.

When she came she would, hopefully, knock him out. He certainly would not fight her on that decision. If she would give him something to relax him, to inhibit his mind from working, then he would be only too happy to take it… Ah! Cowardice on his part, but at this point in time he was not inclined to care.

"Her expected time of arrival will be in approximately fifteen minutes."

"I'll be ready."

He needed to stir himself; get himself washed, get the filth off of him, get dressed. One did not greet the good doctor in one's birthday suit, especially when said physician was the wife of Chang Wu Fei. He would never hear the end of it if he answered the door in the nude… not that he would be answering the door to anyone today. Someone else could do it so he would not have to face the stairs leading down to the living area of his quarters.

They would not leave him unattended when he was like this.

"Commander Une has contacted the University and advised Security Chief Otto there will be a delay in your slated interviews as a result of new information in the case."

The bastard would love that. He would be demanding to know what new information they had and why he was not being kept appraised of the situation… and he was probably complaining about the nights activities too. Une would have a piece of him for interfering with a young male student without addressing appropriate protocol.

He was just too tired to care really. "Well enough."

At least he would not need to drag himself to the University to interview that redhead, Catherine, wasn't it? That was good. He was well aware of his current performance ability at the present time and he was not inclined to place the woman at risk trying to cover for his shortcomings. Such work would have to wait until he managed to clear out the residue of the insanity he had tapped into and the horror of what he had witnessed.

He needed to get himself under control, and soon, or he would disturb the sleep of the budding Prime he least wished to see distressed and with whom he already shared a bond.

Maxwell and Marquise were both lightly drafted with sleep inducing chemicals by the team of medics after each had eaten a satisfactory meal. He had remained long enough to ensure Marquise settle, himself eating to replenish lost calories and to speak with the Dean, who had been far more accommodating than Otto. He had spoken to the man and stressed the precautions taken for the session and only when Marquise was settled to sleep behind the safety of his unique mind shield with security guards posted at the door to the suite did he leave the hotel, intent on finding his own bed.

Those diamond hard shields he was learning to create merely from associating with Zechs were proving their worth for him now. He had managed to contain the horror, to stop it from escaping from his control and involuntarily sharing it with others. The shields he had found in no other psi and had to have been developed by Marquise, were now his greatest asset in his struggle to contain the horror he had witnessed.

He needed to sit down and have a long work session with Marquise to learn how best to refine and polish the shield to perfection. There was so much potential for shields of this calibre in the future. With this grade of shielding perfected and taught to every high level telepath and empath he suspected no T/E psychic of Prime or near Prime level ever need fear the encroachment of the mass mind on his sanity.

There were a great many things he needed to do… but not now.

This was neither the appropriate time nor the place to entertain such thoughts. There would be talk of advancements to shielding technology when the entire mess at Tsuberov was resolved satisfactorily. Now there were other worries, more important concerns. They needed to stop more people from dying at the mind of a man who was steadily becoming a monster.

Was it already too late for him? Was he already beyond help?

Treize was very much afraid the man was beyond any help medical science could offer.

From the psychic residue filling that alley, Treize feared the man was fast descending into insanity. He was not going to be merely insane, but violently so. Murderously, whether he intended to harm someone or not. Certainly at the present time he was unstable, more so than at the last contact Treize had examined in the suite at Tsuberov had suggested. He was mentally unstable, his psychic abilities were all over the place and where before his interest in one of those three young men had been innocent, 'pure', one might say, what had developed over the course of the incident in the alley clearly showed rapid deterioration of his mind… of his humanity.

What had been pure intent, adoration, even love, was deteriorating into raw sexual desire. An unreasonable sexual desire that Treize had found only in the minds of those who were convicted instigators of violent sex crimes. It clearly indicated a greater danger to the three young men. If the Stalker managed to get his hands on the one he was targeting, then it was almost a certainty there would be a sexual assault. A violent sexual assault, and with his mind approaching overdrive the Stalker would undoubtedly turn the unfortunate individual into a vegetable.

If he did not explode their brain, as he had done to that prostitute during the night.

Literally exploding his brain… and… other…

Treize choked back bile, forcing himself to resist the gag reflex. He had already thrown up until his sides had cramped and he could barely breathe. He had had his guards in a near panic trying to stabilise him… but he was not the only one who had so violent a reaction… and the others in attendance of the crime scene had not had the benefit of the psychic residue to fuel their physical reaction.

Between the reek of the garbage in the alley and bodily fluids, and the body parts strewn… shit!

Treize almost fell out of the shower to retch violently into the toilet. Surely he had nothing left to throw up… and wasn't dry retching a joy!

In amidst the uncontrollable tremors that shook his body from the tips of his fingers to his toes, he was aware of low voices and hasty instructions being given, but he could not understand a work spoken so close to him. Every cramp of his gut speared pain throughout his aching body and his head pounded with pressure he desperately wanted relieved, but he could not, he dare not, let it out. He was freezing cold though he had been baking himself in a steaming hot shower only moments before… and would this nausea ever stop?

A towel thrown over his shoulders, hands touching him, steadying him, and the projection of a safely neutral psi shield in an attempt not to further distress his already strained control. His guards were trained to be as invisible to his hyper talent as it was possible for a non T/E Prime to be. The hands touching him were sheathed in silk, a natural insulator against psi, a measure used to handle telepaths and empaths who preferred not to be touched where touch was required. It was as much as they could do to help him physically and mentally until he could help himself.

And it would be a few minutes before he could do more than dry retch and uselessly grasp the toilet in an effort to support his weight. He doubted he would be able to move under his own power any time soon; if he could just stop remembering! Stop thinking about it… stop seeing it, feeling it, being it!

It was as if he had killed that poor boy.

He with the killer, the stalker.

He had tapped into the residue left at the crime scene, could pick the perpetrator of the crime out of a crowd even though he had not once viewed his physical face. He knew this individual on a far deeper level than that of mere physical flesh.

He had sensed it, felt it, watched it… as though it was still happening, over and over again, endlessly repeating in his mind, echoing…

He killed as the killer killed. He experienced the rising surge of insanity and incompetence… the anger, the betrayal, the disgust…the lust…the desire… the hate.

He had lived it all as the killer.

He was the boy, tired, alone, desperate to survive. New to the ways of the streets, desperate enough to sell his body, desperately trying to project a professional persona. He had been told he would get more that way… Pain, terror, fear, crying…

Perhaps if he could gain control of himself he might more closely examine his reading of the victim and perhaps even 'see' the face of his killer. The boy had found him to be… attractive… initially

He was vaguely aware of voices somewhere near, a psi awareness not strong enough to break through the emotions, the memories filling him. He could not break himself out of it, could not stir himself to see what they were doing, who they were talking to.

Cold tiles against his back, cold and smooth as the alley walls had been cool and rough. He was leaning against the wall in his bathroom? The cramps in his middle made it almost impossible to drag air into aching lungs and the gag reflex was rising again. If he could just stop thinking he might…

Something slammed into the side of his neck, staggering him and causing him to tumble, losing his precarious balance. A sharp prick somewhere at the centre of the impact… Hypergun, his mind identified. Not that he was particularly interested, but he should be, the thought was vague. He hated the damned things.

Chilling cold seemed to creep from the point of impact, seeping through him with frightening speed and the nausea began to settle and his awareness of the world began to recede. A moment of panic was settled as a silk swathed hand pressed under his jaw and raised his head so that all he could see were intense blue eyes.

"You can recognise me? Treize? It's Sally. I'm going to put you out, Treize. I am also going to give you a chemical neural inhibitor to shut down your abilities for a few hours. No, no, its alright, no need to panic." Hands held his head, cupping his face and those eyes were intense. "It will be for just a few hours, just until you can regain your equilibrium. Gabriella has called me and I have her consent to put you out. Gabriella ordered it, Treize. Do you understand? She will be here late this afternoon and I have her consent to put you out until she arrives. Do you understand what I am saying?"

Had he nodded? He was incapable of speech, he didn't even bother trying, but he must have made some sign she could understand because she stuck him with a second hyper injection, this one to his left wrist, and the world quickly faded to shades of gray and then black. So long as it stopped him from thinking, from remembering, from Feeling… he would agree to anything.

0000000000000000

Sally monitored the slowing of his heart, aware of his guards at the door, of Michael hovering protectively over her. He had made room for her without hesitation, never questioning her method of bringing the man back under control. One hand was pressed to his throat and the other to the pulse point in his wrist, allowing her to monitor the steady easing of the straining heart and the slowing, deepening breaths.

Treize had, unthinkably, been on the pinnacle of crisis and she would gut the stupid bastard who had exposed him to a violent crime scene when he was already on the edge and exhausted from an intense work session.

And just what the hell had happened to have him working in the first place, when he was supposed to be heading home? He had spoken to her just before she had left the Agency and told her he was looking for a decent meal and a decent nights sleep. An early night, for God's sake, not an early morning visit to a crime scene where an attack violent enough to have seasoned investigators incapacitated.

She would express her discontent with that later, after she had him settled and comfortable. She wanted answers and she needed, obviously, to express herself in a manner that would leave no one in doubt of her displeasure.

'Home to bed' did not mean wandering around the city overloading on psychic residue to the point of this mess.

She wanted more of an explanation than what she had thus far been given, and if everyone trod hot bricks around her the way they were, she could just imagine how they would cringe when that irascible old gypsy arrived later in the day. Beneath her hands his pulse was slowing appreciably and his breathing had steadied and deepened and she was not pleased with the amount of heat coming from his body.

"Alright, Michael. Handle him carefully but get him wiped down and get him into bed while I prepare the monitoring equipment."

Turner inclined his head, moving aside to permit Sally to leave the bathroom, reaching for a towel as she left the room. The doctor was emanating a great deal of emotion at the moment, now that the Prime was unconscious and his psi ability restrained by the chemical inhibitor and would not be affected by her anger. He prided himself on having a strong survival instinct and he was not about to get in her way. His mother had always told him never to piss off a Healer, at some stage in his life he would need one and one accumulated Karma, so it was best to accumulate the good kind.

Sally Po had a certain reputation one respected if one valued one's life.

He was not a slight man in build, nor was he weak, but the unconscious Prime was neither small nor slight in build, however he was reluctant to have anyone else assist him in getting the man into bed. The fewer people who handled him, even if he was under the influence of a neural inhibitor to dull down his talent, the better. One did not needlessly handle a Prime Telepathic Empath and he judged it best to manage on his own.

He had felt the distress the Prime was under as only another telepath could share it. Even through the medium of the silk gloves it had been strong enough to shake his own resolve, and if he had not needed to focus on the Prime he too would have been heaving his guts up at that alley.

He had been under a great deal of stress managing the Tsuberov Chief of Security while the Prime worked in the suite at the hotel. Heinrich Otto was a stubborn bastard who did not like being told he could not do anything, especially when what he could not do was directly related to his job. It was as well he was accustomed to dealing with the Prime who took stubborn to new, grand levels.

Even when they had permitted Otto to enter the suite the man had been a thorn in the side, growling and grumbling and insisting, though admittedly he would have done the same thing if their situations had been reversed. He would not have liked anyone else muscling in on his security detail.

Surprisingly it had been the young Winner boy who had managed the Security Officer the best. Quatre Winner had a way about him that had helped to sooth matters over. What had shut the man up though had been the call that had come in over Otto's wrist com, and just who the identity of the caller had been Michael would have loved to know.

Someone who had the clout to shut the man up and get him to work with them, not against them, to settle the three young people for the night. He would have loved to have overhear the brief conversation, Otto had retired to take the call, but Michael had watched and Otto had practically snapped to attention, listening intently. There had been no argument from the Security Chief, merely an acknowledgement from what he could see. Whoever the caller had been, Otto held a great deal of respect for them.

Throwing aside the towel he had been using to wipe the Prime down, he took care in lifting the man into a fireman's carry, grunting softly at his weight. Treize Khushrenada carried a lot of muscle, and for all his trim looks he weighed a hefty amount. The bed was turned down and ready for him and Michael wasted no time in settling the Prime, drawing the blankets over him as Sally ran lightly up the steps to the loft.

"Thank you Michael. I've just put a call in to Une and informed her I will be keeping Treize asleep until Prime Gabriella arrives. I would advise you to take this opportunity to get some rest yourself. The Agency will be providing security whilst he is on down time."

"With all due respect, Dr. Po, I would prefer…"

"Go and get some sleep and then come back and pester me… but first you can tell me just what the hell he was doing out and about in the city instead of being in bed!"

Damn, she could be a scary bitch when she was in a snit. Michael was thankful she was an empath, not a telepath, not that he thought she could have read him through his shields. Regardless, the woman sometimes acted as though she could read your mind and he was not inclined to get her temper up any higher than it was at present.

"He went for a walk after leaving the office, Ma'am. Things sort of… happened… from there."

No amount of respectful Ma'aming was going to save his sorry arse and she looked anything but mollified. Why did it have to be him who was left to explain the nights activities? If the Prime had remained conscious he would have handled the questions with much more aplomb… or maybe he would have been smart enough to feign unconsciousness.

Yes, the man was not an idiot.

"He 'touched' the Stalker whilst walking through the park and alerted us. Under his authority a search was set in operation, but unfortunately we could not locate the individual. He did not remain at the park for the full search, but enroute to his apartment he caught distress from a high level psi and responded to it."

The blue eyes intensified though she hardly looked calmer. "Who?"

"One of the Tsuberov students, Zechs Marquise. The one they say will make a Prime T/E. As it turned out a younger student who does not know how to control her abilities triggered a flashback to a traumatic event in his past; and she had an unfavourable effect on Duo Maxwell as well. The Prime," could he get away with down playing the events of the night? "dealt with the matter, but on our way here we caught a report on the police band."

"A death, I take it, from his reaction."

"Yes, ma'am. They were requesting a psi to read a crime scene and we were close to the location and had to pass it to reach the apartment complex. As we approached the crime scene the Prime reacted badly. It is my belief he may have detected the Stalker at the scene."

"And in an attempt to pick up the asshole he poked his aristocratic nose where it should not have been." Sally sighed, pulling a hand through her hair in irritation. "Damned fool."

"With respect, Ma'am, it is pertinent to the Tsuberov incident."

Sally scowled, glancing from the sleeping Prime to the guard. "How so? He was not at Tsuberov when this happened."

"He has positively identified the killer of the victim in the alley as being the Stalker from Tusberov."

"Shit." Sally rubbed her hands over her face, sorting her thoughts carefully into some form of order.

He would probably not take kindly to her knocking him out when they might have had a hot lead on the suspect… but then in this matter as far as she was concerned, his health came first.

"Are you sure about that?"

"Yes. He… The Prime said… Ma'am, something happened in that alley. Something he didn't expect to happen. I don't know it all but… I think he may have… lived… the murder through the killer's mind. What I 'read' from him was powerful and it was… sick."

"Sickening, to be sure." Sally sighed.

"No, ma'am, well yes, but… I know the Prime and Prime Gabriella were hoping to save this man, the Stalker from Tsuberov, but I think it has progressed too far. He shielded me from the full effects of what he experienced, but I caught enough to have a reasonable idea of what he 'shared'. You don't know what happened in the alley, you don't know what happened there. With all due respect, ma'am, if you stood in that alley you would be throwing up too. There was not one individual there, even seasoned investigators, who were not vomiting at some stage."

Sally considered the man for a long moment, noting his pale colouring and the pinched look he was developing. "Are you alright?"

"I will be, thank you, when I can get the time to throw up my dinner and drown myself in a shower to try to feel clean again. Yes, Ma'am, I'm fine. I didn't experience anything to the extent the Prime did."

"Well, I will save my questions for later. Go and clean up, get out of here and don't bother turning up again until late this afternoon. If you need assistance you will call me, yes?"

Not really a question, he knew and he inclined his head. He was not inclined to be knocked out as effectively as she had dealt with the Prime, but he would not compromise his performance if he could not handle the after effects of the nights activities.

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Go get some sleep. Believe me, Treize will not be going anywhere today."

0000000000000000

"Grandmother, you should be sleeping."

The old woman whose name was known to terrorise the most hardened of politicians looked fragile in her wrinkled sleep shift with an oversized colourful crochet shawl wrapped around her shoulders. She shuffled across the room, her slipper clad feet silent on the plush piled carpet, her steps steady. While her stride was short she never-the-less moved with the confidence and poise one expected to find in the noble born.

There was little visible sign to indicate she was agitated.

"Pfft!" The expressed concern was dismissed with a flick of gnarled fingers. "Plenty of time there is being for sleeping when dead one is. Gabriella is needing to be getting to her Naughty Boy and sorting out nasty mess. This alone is of importance. Unhappy Gabriella is. Most unhappy. Lost one I am thinking we have, to insanity and bastard drugs. Not intending to lose another to like unhappy circumstance. Much is there for Gabriella to be doing."

The grey haired man stood with his back ramrod straight as he watched her shuffle to her chair, his eyes belayed his years with their fiery spark. It had been many years since he had worked with her on a regular basis, but he could see that despite the intervening years nothing had changed. She would never have permitted another psi to board the plane now being prepared at the air terminal for her use without adequate rest having been taken.

Gabriella had one rule for herself and another rule for every other psi in the ESUN.

"The underground trade in chemical enhancement and psi stimulation is, unfortunately, increasing. There was only two chemical cocktails on the black market a few years ago, but recently there has been a rise in designer drugs aimed at inducing psi development in people with little measurable ability. The illicit drug trade is flourishing across Europe and continuing to grow steadily despite our best efforts to shut them down. We closed down a section of the drug road that passed through Sanc only a few weeks ago. They cover their tracks well, but we managed to apprehend the local dealers and traders and gained some vital information which we have passed on to the International Law Enforcement Agency. Stephan is determined to keep their designer drugs off the streets of New Port City."

"Wanting them stopped Gabriella is. Lives they are ruining with their poison. This one Gabriella's Khushrenada is hunting… thinking this one may be too far gone to be saved Gabriella is, and tragedy that will be. Great tragedy. Knowing this one Gabriella will when she sees her Naughty Boy. Too much tragedy Gabriella is seeing every day. Much must change and always not enough time there is to make changes."

She looked tired, older than he had ever seen her look, a clear indication she should be tucked up into bed for much of the day instead of preparing to fly across Europe and immerse herself in deep level Psi work. She was old and she made no allowances for her advancing years.

"That is as may be, Grandmother, but you should be sleeping. You are not as young as you used to be and you would never allow another psi to be active after the level of work we were performing only a few hours ago. The truth of the matter is you are not the only T/E Prime on Earth. Surely one of the others can deal with this?"

"No! This for negotiation is not! No. This budding Prime with the Sexy Eyes and my Khushrenada are Gabriella's concern. Calling another Prime might I need to do, eventually, but not now. No. Not until Gabriella is certain be needing extra oomph we will to handle situation. Chemical shit on streets designed to fry brain cells must be stopped, not just in Sanc. How many more innocents out on streets might awaken as this one who is killing people because of this trade? If can not be saved this one being, if crossed the line he has, then you are knowing what must be done for safety of everyone."

He sighed softly, watching the fire in her that appeared to wipe years from her face. "We are trying, Grandmother. My department liaises with agencies around the world and out into the colonies to stamp out this illicit trade, but it takes time and it takes people to get the job done. Highly trained and skilled people. "

"Always it is being time, and always it is being people, and always it is never enough and people die. Nothing new to Gabriella is this, and Gabriella is knowing what nasties you and others have witnessed. For the large part nothing changes except names of people, places and the drugs they peddle. This Gabriella knows of old. Worried before was Gabriella, but worry no longer is right word. Psi stimulants, Pagan. Thinking about it you should be. Super Psi. How many are using stimulants, how many are using to develop, not tripping? Not safe. Not safe for anyone."

"I am thinking about it and I am praying this is only an isolated incident. Are you certain about the abilities? Are you sure of the strength of this person?"

"No certainty is possible. Naughty Boy is knowing more and Gabriella will be finding out exactly what he is knowing. Trusting her Khushrenada's perspective Gabriella is, and he is saying too much is developing too quickly in this one's head. Now, after sharing initial perception and speaking to investigators at crime scene… Fearing Gabriella is that lost him we have."

"Still, you can not be certain. You can't know…"

"My Khushrenada, my Naughty Boy, he knows. Very much talent has this one Gabriella has taken under her wing and trained. His perceptions are better than any other of existing Primes and sensitivity is higher. Younger, more stable up here." She tapped a gnarled finger to her temple. "Maturing and developing yet lie ahead, but trust Gabriella on this. Khushrenada knows and Gabriella is trusting his perceptions. Needed Gabriella is and going Gabriella will be."

"But you should at least take the time to rest after the session. It was quite an intensive encounter and you have had barely three hours sleep."

He knew how tired she had to be. She had bore the brunt of the work to keep them observing the Prime Khushrenada as he worked, he had just been along for the ride, restricted within intense shields, but it had exhausted him.

"Sleeping on plane Gabriella will be. Much there is to be done first. Forgotten Gabriella has not to greet her children."

The stubborn old woman would not see reason and rather than waste his breath Pagan sighed in defeat, half turning as the door was thrust open. He was prepared to snarl at the servant who ignored his instruction to leave them undisturbed, and he almost choked on his stifled reprimand. The old gypsy might resist him and not return to bed but he knew the importance of keeping her in relative isolation after an intense work session; if she would not sleep, keeping her quiet and isolated was the next best option.

His eyes widened as the words died in his throat unspoken and he was quick to come to his feet, inclining his head in respect. The man who closed the door and stood in silence stared long and hard at the woman huddled into her shawl. She looked tiny, so fragile, but they both knew the strength and determination beneath that frail exterior.

"You should be sleeping, Gabriella."

His voice was deep, a low bass rumble, blue eyes shuttered behind half lowered lids as he studied the woman seated before the roaring fire. The sitting room was psi shielded and electronically secured against more mundane methods of eavesdropping. Many of the private suites throughout the castle had been modified to be considered secure for this most private and delicate of conversations.

On learning she was enroute to New Port City Pagan had prepared a secure suite for her use, suspecting whatever might have brought her to Sanc after so many years they would not wish unauthorised listeners to overhear. The door closed behind him with a satisfactory click, indicating they were secure, and the tall man inclined his head to acknowledge Pagan. Without a word he strode across the room with quiet confidence to take the vacant oversized chair set to the right of the marble hearth.

Watching, Pagan noted Gabriella made no move, as protocol dictated, to stand as the King entered the room, nor did she so much as twitch as he seated himself across from her. It was indeed, he mused, one rule for Gabriella and another for everyone else.

"I have spoken to my legal department. The paperwork will be fast tracked and ready prior to your departure. We will require three hours to finalise it."

"This is acceptable. Interviewing grandchildren will occupy Gabriella adequately."

Blue eyes hardened and there was no doubting the man was not in an entirely sociable frame of mind. Given what had occurred a few hours previously Pagan was plainly surprised he had put in an appearance with the old woman present.

"I have consented only for an interim period. Understand I do not intend for you to be under the impression I have agreed with you on this matter. I am, at best, uncertain over the wisdom of this move. I had intended to place him within Sanc, it is my preferred option, but for a time I will permit this. I will observe how events progress and make a final judgement in the future."

"Well aware is Gabriella and telling you now she is not letting this one go. Told you I have why stepping in Gabriella is, and doubting you should not. Knowing what is best Gabriella is."

"You are not always right, old woman. It is purely your stubborn nature that makes you interfere and refuse to allow him to come home. There is no reason why I should not summon him to Sanc this very minute. I have every right to as his King."

Dark gypsy eyes lifted from the fire to study the younger man for a long moment before Gabriella settled a little deeper in her chair, her eyes hooded as she flicked a finger dismissively.

"Home?" A wealth of meaning backed the word and none of it was good. She did not miss the faint flinch and smirked. "Not born to Sanc this one. Not under your control."

The King knew as well as she did that the subject of their discussion had never set foot within Sanc's borders. Watching the pair clash glares Pagan felt the tension rising. It had been a fiery discussion in the early hours of the morning, with Gabriella in full verbal flight and the King equally as vehement and vocal. During the course of their discussion the Queen had departed the private study in tears and Pagan had wished he might have followed her and escaped the volatile atmosphere. He was not really sure who he had stayed to protect, the King or the irascible old gypsy.

"At this time, no, Gabriella will not permit Sexy Eyes to enter Sanc. Much is Gabriella wanting to know, and not all questions are having answers to be found here. This one, blooded to Sanc or no, his future lies not here but elsewhere."

His blue eyes hardened, narrowing further. He was far from in agreement with the old woman and Stephan of Sanc was not accustomed to being countermanded as she had done repeatedly over the course of the morning. She would have her own way, Pagan was confident of that. Gabriella had connections that could be brought to place pressures on Sanc they could not afford at this time, and the King was well aware of it. Gypsy she might have been born, but the bare footed, wild haired gypsy girl had grown up to be one of the most influential people in the Earth Sphere.

She had voiced her demands to the King and he had refused her barely an hour after they had concluded their session. She had reiterated her demands and he had refused her a second time; a grave mistake in Pagan's view. They might have negotiated an agreement between them, but Stephan's stubborn pride had reared its head once too often when dealing with Gabriella, and on this occasion she had set the cat amongst the pigeons in his own house. She had aired dirty laundry, ignoring the pain brought to all parties, confident she was in the right and determined to win the day.

It was true what his father had told him all those years ago. When Gabriella came to Sanc sanity departed and chaos settled in for a long stay. It would take considerable effort on Stephan's part to make peace with his Queen.

" 'You' will not allow him to make his home here. You? Always it is 'you', Gabriella. Your decisions are right. 'You' know best. 'You' are God's gift to the Earth Sphere and don't argue just obey! What gives you the right to dictate to the governments of the world? What gives you the right to interfere with the lives of people you have not even associated with in more than a score of years? You left Sanc in high dungeon more than twenty years ago and now you are back, making demands yet again and expecting the world to bow before you. What gives you the right? Why are you the only one to decide where he goes and what he does?"

Dark eyes snapped fire across the distance separating them. "The title Prime gives Gabriella this right. Blood in her veins gives Gabriella this right. Mismanagement of the young one gives Gabriella this right. What happened to drive Crystabelle away from Sanc gives Gabriella this right! Assuring you, Gabriella is, there will be no mismanagement where this young one who is Crystabelle's son is concerned under Gabriella's protection."

"That remains to be seen. We will have further discussions concerning this young man and your intentions toward him and others who, heaven save them, have the misfortune to attract your interest."

Her grin was frighteningly feral. She held no fear of him, either as a physically stronger male or as King, and Pagan wondered if his grandmother feared anyone. Old as she was she was a fighter and to his knowledge she had always fought for the betterment of psi conditions. His investigations into her past had revealed much that had, quite frankly, sickened him and he understood why she was so adamant about improving working conditions and introducing legislation to protect psychic rights. Her early years had been less than pleasant.

"Pays it does not to underestimate cranky old women and safe it is not, generally speaking, to have this old woman spitting fire. That you are not wanting to do. Signing papers you will and then shutting up and stepping back you will, leaving Zechs Marquise to Gabriella's hand. Having a mess in your house you are to clean up."

"And whose fault is it there is a mess now to be cleaned?" Blue eyes burned with barely suppressed rage. "You waltz into the country as though you own it. You turn up here and have no second thoughts about throwing your weight around from the onset. You muscle your way into the palace…"

"Escorted in I was." her smile was saccharine sweet.

"You demand an audience with Pagan, keep him in seclusion for hours on end and then casually demand I sign away the crown's right to supervise…"

"Yes, yes, all of this Gabriella is guilty of. Knowing this we do and getting on with things you need to be. Gabriella has plane to catch."

"Woman, you are the biggest pain in the arse I have ever had to deal with!"

Dark eyebrows arched and a grin to rival the Cheshire Cat's gave new life to the mass of wrinkles that was her face. "Pain in arse, yes, this is Gabriella. Bigger pain in arse Gabriella leaves behind in passing is best impression on future she is leaving. Always has this is being so."

"You upset Katherine needlessly! You demand the right to supervise one of the 'cousins' in absentia, and in the next breath you demand to steal the brightest and the best of our youngsters! Why?"

Ah, he had such fire! He was so like the sexy young thing she had encountered on her first stay in Sanc. It was hardly surprising given they carried the same bloodlines. Stephan of Sanc was a handsome man, white gold hair, piercing blue eyes and he hardly looked his advancing years. The studs of Sanc aged gracefully, and though he was approaching sixty he was so young when measured against the years she had conquered in the days of her life.

He had been a fine King and from reports he was well loved in his lands. For an arranged marriage he dealt well with his Queen, though that might change if he did not sweet talk his way out of trouble quickly. She had debated with herself whether or not to inform the Queen of the exact events of the past, and in the end she had done so. To his horror and pain. It might not be easy for him to restore peace to his marriage.

They were handsome creatures. Sex on legs that was the blonde Vikings of Sanc and even her advancing years gave her no immunity to their beauty or their charm… and their fire she adored.

"More to life is there being than life lived inside borders of Sanc. Nice place, but more is out there." She flipped a finger toward the window. "Escape from Sanc has your daughter, though returning she will be. Training at Tsuberov was best choice, and commend you for making that choice Gabriella does. Time it is to let young one's fly coop. Like homing pigeons they see the world and then they return, but return they do having gained experience of the wider world. This is good. This is how it should be."

His scowl set her to grinning. He was in no fine mood, but fighting with him allowed her to enjoy the fire of the bloodline. Few there were in the wide ESUN who would stand up to her and give her a good old fashioned fire breathing argument, and she loved him for it. She had been angered by his stubborn refusal to listen to her, and she had warned him he needed to set his house in order. He had not listened and she was rather thankful she would not be a witness to what would definitely be some fiery discussions between the King and his Queen.

She would have preferred to sleep herself out in the comfort of the bed she had been given. She was not getting any younger and her days were numbered, but she could not ignore what had taken place in that distant city. It would take her precious hours to reach her Khushrenada, and she could rest in transit but she needed to be there, to assist him in adjusting his shields and in regaining his mental equilibrium.

What he had experienced… She had felt more than a mere echo of it through their bond and the sooner she could depart the better. For a short while she could trust her Naughty Boy to others, but only for a short while. There were children here too who needed her, and she would not abandon them. There had already been too much of that in Sanc and she would not compound the problem.

"Training of young minds in Sanc is good, but limits there are. Gabriella has determined with one, at least three there are, with deeper talents untouched. Left here the one called Adrian will not develop to full potential. Wasting talent and lives is not efficient when lives have much to offer. Other important concern makes Gabriella point bony finger at young ones. Long has Sanc kept her gypsy blood contained. Good this is not. With some, yes, no problem, but with others… ah, contained fire is not so good. Who better than gypsy to know restlessness when it lives in blood and bone?"

Karina Robertson 2011

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Notes:

Treize Kushrenada : Level 10 Sending/Receiving Telepath + Receiving and Projecting Empath at Level 10. Prime rated. Agency Operative contracted term of 5 years with 2 years remaining. [25yrs of age] Training facility: Psychic Institute Munich Division.

Michael Turner: Level 4 Sending/Level 5 Receiving Telepath. Psychic Institute, Washington Division [age 35 yrs] Assigned Chief Bodyguard to Treize Khushrenada, Agency Prime.

Sally Po [Chang]: Level 4 Receiving Empath with linked Healers Ability graded Level 6 Agency Operative-Chief Medical Officer contracted term of 10 years with 6 years remaining. Training facility: Psychic Institute Beijing Division. [23 yrs old]

Gabriella : Romany descent. Level 10 Sending / Receiving Telepath + Level 10 Receiving and Projecting Empath. Prime Rated. Training facility rumored to be Government Laboratories of the Prussian Republic deposed in the year AC 45. Age: Unknown [rumored to be approximately seventy four]. Oldest of the Prime Telepathic Empaths.

Jonothan Heinrich Pagan, 5th Marquis: Level 4 Send / Receive Telepath private training Sanc. Father to Crystabelle. Age60

Stephan Andrew Jean Heinrich Peacecraft, King of Sanc: Suggestor Level 8, Telepath Send Level 8 Receive L 5, Projecting / Receiving Empath L4, Private tutored Sanc [age 59 years]

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My sincere apologies for the ling delay in the Agency chapter. Hopefully it will not take me 4 months to get the next chapter out to you. Hopefully you will forgive me for the delay and you will decide the chapter was worth the wait.

Karina


	42. Chapter 42

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 42/?

Author: Karina

Warnings: Extreme Alternate Universe setting. Aussie spelling, not much else in the early chapters though it will involve murder, stalking and possibly some colourful language down the track. Some Out Of Character depictions are unavoidable considering the alternate universe setting.

Rating: M [In Australia that would be mature adult 15+] Not sure with the new rating system. Rated for murder and violence as well as adult concepts.

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. That's about as plain as you could say it.

Many thanks to the wonderful ShenLong Deb for betaing this chapter for me.

/…/ Thoughts

~/.../~ Telepathy

Agency: Meeting of Souls

Chapter 42

Lucrezia Noin looked around her curiously, noting the differences between this the headquarters of the Agency and the regional offices she had previously frequented belonging to the organisation. She had worked with the organisation on past occasions but this was the first time she had received a request for her services from the central office. It might have been the work place of any large business corporation in any one of a dozen major cities across the globe, but many of the workers here were anything other than your standardised pen pushers and numbers junkies.

For example, she knew the security guard who had pinned the visitors pass to her lapel was far from the harmless old man he looked to be. Not all employees in the building were psi active, in fact the majority of employees here were most likely not levelled psychics. Of those who were psi active, which could be as few as ten percent of the employees on the payroll, upwards of seventy percent would be low level psi, few of them would be graded to an actual official level.

The directions given to her on her check in were precise and a key pass card had been presented to her to grant her access to the elevator that would take her to the appropriate floor. Noin took her time. She had always taken a great deal of pleasure in people watching and it was for more than simply a personal pleasure; the practise assisted her in working with the deceased who became her clients.

She had learned early in her training that by gaining an understanding of the habits of the living, one could gain some degree of understanding of the sometimes curious and contradictory behaviour of the dead. Particularly the behaviour of those who were recently deceased and who did not realise, or refused to acknowledge, what had befallen them.

Watching how people acted in various emotional states and interacted with each other gave her insights into the smallest muscular twitches; expressions of face and body that betrayed any words that might be spoken and the intentions of the speaker and any listeners. As a general rule of thumb she worked on the principle that the mind, though with a great degree of effort, and the mouth, with far less effort, of any individual could lie; the body, as a whole, could not. A high level telepath would argue the point of the mind lying, but Noin knew of a few individuals with sufficient control of their minds that they could escape psi detection in a bald faced lie, perhaps even deceive a Prime level Telepath.

She put her faith in body language. The intricate wonders of the workings of the human body could reveal much more to the astute observer than most people would be comfortable revealing. Of course the dead had no physical form, but there were generally sufficient ties remaining between the deceased's awareness of having a physical form, though it was left behind, for their ghostly appearance to have the odd muscular twitch, lowering, widening or narrowing of the eyes etc. to betray some reaction if pressed.

When she exited the elevator on the appropriate floor she become aware of a certain tension in the atmosphere that frankly surprised her. It was far from pleasant and seemed to be emanating from the office she had been directed to. The few people wandering this outer foyer were clearly giving the glass door and window panels cautious looks, though none appeared to be alarmed, as though it was, if not a regular occurrence, then at least nothing to be surprised or alarmed about.

Generally a successful business concern could be traced back to office dynamics. People who were content, even happy with their environment and conditions performed better than those who were unhappy about some aspect of their job. Tightening her shields a little Noin flashed her passkey at the doors and slipped into the large work space.

The spread of desks with their little cubicle walls was typical of an office set up, though these cubicles seemed rather larger than many companies provided and the walls were lower, not cutting off the workers from each other, merely offering some nominal degree of privacy should they not wish to interact. The colour choice was pleasant and relaxing and there were potted plants in the open spaces and she noted the odd desk boasted plants as well. Personal items decorated desks within her sight and overall she got the impression it was permissible for people to personalise their work space.

Yet it was obvious that people were far from relaxed at the moment and the general air about the office was that of something, presumably a disaster of biblical proportions from their expressions, was about to happen. Noin was thankful she was no high level empath given what her telepathy was picking up. To an empath there would probably be a noxious miasma filling the space.

Noin was generally an amiable sort, hard to upset and able to roll with the flow as circumstances presented. That was why, when her pre arranged ride to the office had failed to appear at the stated time, she had shrugged and summoned a taxi. The tension in the office suggested that whatever was unfolding might have had something to do with that oversight, not that she minded. Having to make her own way to the office allowed her to see more of the city and to acquaint herself with the feel of the city and its citizens.

It had not taken her long to pick up that something was wrong, both in the city's general population and certainly within this particular office in the building. The Agency's headquarters fairly reeked of tension but given the nature of the company's employment that was hardly surprising, however it had been a little more than she was accustomed to expecting when not entering a major cities law enforcement establishment.

Police stations of any size and description, in any country on Earth or in the colonies, tended to be emotionally volatile places, but the Agency was not a law enforcement establishment. The closer she had come to this office the more noticeable the tension had become. A spike of raw anger, something more than pure emotion else she would not have sensed it so clearly being a telepath not an empath; a silent to the ears expression but a moment later it was a very vocal snarl she heard from the end office. The office was a sealed off section of the larger room affording privacy to the user and that mental snarl definitely originated from the walled enclosure and necessitated a further tightening of her shields.

"Inspector, much as it is an inconvenience to you, I am afraid there is nothing I can do about it. Prime Khushrenada is… indisposed at the present time. I believe that Prime Gabriella will be available later this afternoon, and that she has offered her services to the Agency regarding this matter. I would advise you to discuss with her as to when you might be able to consult with Prime Khushrenada."

There was marked sarcasm on the 'discuss' and 'consult' from the voice issuing from the office. Anne Une, Noin recognised the woman's voice, and the lady sounded anything but amused. Noin made her way slowly closer to the partitioned off area, noting the flinches of some of the workers, guessing that they were the most 'sensitive' of the psi active listeners.

"Not good enough! This is a criminal investigation and your Prime was on the scene within hours of the murder. I do not need to question a Prime who was not even in the city when the murder took place! I need to question Him, Ms. Une, the Prime who was on the scene! This killer is running loose in my city and he kills in a most abominable manner. Do you want him, a psi killer, running loose?"

Ah, so there had been a murder and somehow the Agency was involved. Noin could understand where that might aggravate a few people, and she had heard that Anne Une had a volatile temper.

"We have to get this bastard off the streets as quickly as possible! I don't have the time or the inclination to pander to the namby pamby foibles of the pampered, stuck up, better-than-you-peasants nobility! I have a job to do! I have a killer to hunt down. I want to see that Prime and I want to see him NOW!"

The bellow and accompanying mental roar laced with rather irrational anger caused Noin to take a step back, away from the office. She sidled closer to the wall, an eyebrow arching as the door to the inner office slammed open. From where she was standing she could see into the room through the glass door and no one had been near the door to open it. A bull necked man with short frizzing hair showing the first signs of balding, suddenly slammed through the opening backwards, his feet scrambling to find purchase on the carpeted floor.

He was middle aged, somewhat overweight and wore a suit that looked like it had been slept in and he was emitting waves of negativity, anger and ever rising levels of frustration. Noin tightened her shields a little more, enough to be comfortable but still use her talent. The man stumbled, regained his balance and appeared to push back against an invisible wall that kept him out of the office and appeared, slowly but steadily, to be forcing him, small step by small step, away from the doorway.

"That is Commander Une to you, you jumped up pig of a man!"

Every eye in the office was now on the altercation taking place and Noin noted more than a few pale faces and fearful glances at the open door. The workers had been tense enough before, but suddenly the fear was spiking and it was easy to pick out the individuals who had some claim to telepathy and particularly to empathy. They were the one's looking decidedly ill.

"I could not give a shit about how difficult it is for you to bring to heel a murderer. You are not the only one who wants this arsehole brought down, but even so you do not barge into my office and lambaste me and spread your negativity amongst my staff!" Pure rage dripped from every word issuing from within the office. "The Prime is unavailable at the present time and will remain so until further notice, you moronic little prig. If you have a complaint about that by all means take it up with my superiors! Better yet, I suggest you take it up with Prime Gabriella. I understand she is in transit at the present time and should arrive in another few hours. I have no doubt she will be delighted to rip your innards out and display them for all the world to see under a sign that reads 'insensitive pig and incompetent fool'!"

Everyone in the larger work space was speedily migrating toward the windows, leaving an obvious, overly wide space between the inner office and the doors leading out into the rest of the building. The diminutive form of Anne Une appeared in the doorway, a furious scowl on her face, her arms crossed beneath her breasts and her eyes behind her glasses were positively shooting flames.

The man she glared at so fiercely looked to be pushing forward against an irresistible force that inexorably forced him to retreat, albeit slowly and what looked to be somewhat painfully. His complexion had deepened to beet red, perspiration beading his pudgy features but, regardless, he pushed forward, even whilst slowly but steadily losing ground.

"I will indeed be sending a complaint to your superior!"

"And I will be sending a complaint to your Superintendent along with the demand you be sent to a novice course on how not to piss off Agency command staff!" Une's voice was at a conversational level now, firm but furious. "Generally it takes only a modicum of polite behaviour to achieve, at least it generally does with me, can't particularly say about any of the others. Be assured we are doing everything we can to track down the party responsible for the atrocity that took place last night. I do not need to be reminded that the perpetrator is a psi active individual."

The exit doors to the outer foyer of the floor slammed open without a hand touching them and the man was forced through them.

"I am sure we of the Agency can work together with the local law enforcement to make our city streets safe. We have done so successfully in the past and we will continue to do so in the future. Thank you for taking the time to come today to express your concerns which, I assure you, are duly noted and I will thank you to NOT darken my doorstep again!"

The doors slammed shut, the glass rattling alarmingly in the aluminium frames and Une glared as the man tried, unsuccessfully, to force the doors open. It took almost two minutes of ranting and ineffectual assaults on the door before the man stormed away toward the elevators and during this time you could have heard a pin drop and hit the carpet.

"Jumped up arsehole." Une sneered and spun smartly on her heel. "Get back to work!"

A scurry of bodies as people almost fell over each other in their rush to return to their desks resulted and Une stalked toward her office. Noin could almost see the dark aura of the woman's anger as she came abreast of the door and decided that this might not be the best time to request a word. She could always find her own way to the Medical Centre and the corpse she was to interview.

"Noin! I saw you lurking. Get in here!"

Or maybe not. If nothing else it would prove to be an interesting day and she had dealt with some ill mannered assholes in her past association with law enforcement agencies, so she was not particularly disturbed by Une's aggravation.

"Molly get your E cups out from under that desk and get me some coffee!"

"Immediately, Commander Une." A breathy but definite squeak emerged from beneath the desk set nearest the inner office.

Noin noted a particularly busty brunette crawl out from under the desk and the slender woman hastened toward a credenza, looking like something nasty and exceedingly dangerous was hard on her heels. The office was quickly gaining the subtle noise level she was familiar with in an inner city working environment, though actual speech was hushed and cautious. These people, whilst appearing wary, also appeared to be familiar with such explosive dynamics as she had witnessed.

Une was standing at her window glaring out over the cityscape, back ramrod straight and clearly still seething. A chair that had been set against the far wall of the office floated in obvious invitation to settle before the desk and Noin, not wishing to tempt fate, accepted the seat.

"My apologies for the scene you just witnessed and for me forgetting about your pick-up. Things have rather deteriorated since I dropped you at your hotel last night."

An understatement given that man had clearly been the investigating officer in a murder; from what she had overheard a particularly brutal murder, so it was understandable that emotions might run a little high.

"Your services were requested to interview the shade of a murder victim and, hopefully, gain us some needed insight into the manner of his demise. Last night a second murder occurred. This incident was linked to the first death and was… notably worse… than the previous murder. Might we impose on you to attempt to contact the second victim? I will, of course, adjust your commission contract accordingly."

"Of course. I will help where I can."

Une inhaled sharply and shook her head slightly before slowly exhaling, repeating the action three times, a standard exercise to control her aggravation.

"Do not agree too quickly. It was a particularly… brutal assault. Psi based, like the first, but much worse. We have to bring this man down and we need to do it quickly, before he gets a taste for killing."

Noin sighed softly, shaking her head. "If it was not an easy death then it is most important that I assist. The victim likely will need my intervention to 'move on'. This is what I do, Commander Une; I settle the restless and distressed dead."

Une nodded briefly, not arguing with her. They all had their reasons for working where and how they did. "I know you are a reasonably high sending and receiving telepath, but I have to ask, are you a rated empath?"

Noin was not phased by the question. If the murder had been brutal the crime scene would be no pleasant thing to look at, but it would be even worse to purely 'feel'

"Not enough of an empath to be measurable on the Psi Tables. Only marginally more so than a non psi individual."

Une looked relieved. "Good. You might survive the crime scene then."

A soft tap on the still open door saw the secretary enter with two mugs, placing one on the desk before Noin and the other in front of Une's vacant chair. The woman was obviously not inclined to go near her commander at present.

"Your file said black coffee with two sugars, Prime Noin?"

"Yes, thank you Molly. I appreciate it."

A hesitant smile answered her and with a quick glance at the other woman's stiff back Molly excused herself and the door slammed shut, narrowly missing her heels. After a long moment Une sighed and turned her back to the view returning to her desk and settling, taking up the coffee and inhaling the aroma deeply.

"God, it's a mess. A bloody, potentially city wide catastrophe waiting to happen. I'll go over the details of the entire case with you, starting from the beginning and bring you up to date with the latest developments. First I need to warn you that Prime Gabriella is enroute to the city and she will not be in the best of moods. She will be participating in the investigation, there is nothing we can do to keep her out after this, not that I think we have a chance of dealing with this matter without her assistance. I trust you are well aware of her colourful reputation?"

"Oh yes."

Une opened a draw and drew out a thick folder, setting it before Noin before leaning back in her seat. "The reason the Prime will not be in a sociable frame of mind is because her pet Prime, Treize Khushrenada, was one of the first investigators on the scene of the murder last night. He was also the first empath near the scene. He is now drugged to the eyeballs and under the direct care of Sally Po. She is our resident Psi Medical Officer and received special training to handle a T/E Prime when it was known we were to gain the services of one. The empathic feedback from the murder scene has, to put it mildly, incapacitated the Prime for the present time, but we still have a killer to hunt down and students and citizens to protect."

"The murder was bad enough to affect a T/E Prime through his shields?" She could not hide her surprise, past experience having taught her how effective a Prime talents personal shields needed to be.

"Unfortunately so. One of the reasons the Inspector was so irascible this morning is because of the effects this particular murder has had on his investigation and forensic teams. He is not a happy man, but he can think twice before taking out his frustrations on my people. Noin, it was a particularly brutal crime. When you read the report you will understand something of the reactions of the people who attended the scene."

Noin composed herself, steadying her reaction to the woman's obvious distress and what it suggested she might find when it was her turn to investigate. "If you wish me to work to full effect, I will need to attend the crime scene myself."

"I understand and I will assign you a driver and an assistant when you are ready to proceed." The door closed gently behind her. "I assume it would be best to view the area sooner rather than later? For now, I suggest we begin with the report in front of you."

OOOOOooooooOOOOO

"Good afternoon, Mr. Maxwell."

/After… noon? Huh?/

It was, without a doubt, way too early for anyone to be interrupting, intruding upon, his much loved downtime. He had no idea at the moment which day of the week it was, but it had to be somewhere near midweek, he would sort that out when he fully woke up, but for now midweek was close enough. Midweek equated, presumably, to Wednesday, again close enough given that his eyelids did not want to lift more than a sliver to stare at the horrendously bright light and have it hurt his brain.

/Augh. Pain./

Enough of the light and his eyes blessedly drifted closed, but the damage was done. The thought process, albeit sluggishly, had been initiated. Wednesday, presumably, or was it Thursday? Might have been Tuesday, but… Ugh. Whichever. He had classes to attend and if it was Wednesday then those classes were not electives but basics. Required basic educational classes those at Tsuberov could not afford to miss and that included him. Attendance was mandatory if he wanted to pass with flying colours and get himself a berth on the Sweeper ship he most wanted to join as permanent crew. Howard took only the best of the best and he knew full well if he did not make the grade, genius that he was, he would not be accepted into the crew. To get the grades he needed he had to get the sleep he needed to pay total attention whilst in class.

"Mr. Maxwell. It really is time you stirred yourself."

Damn, it was hard to think and why the hell was he hearing a voice that was not one he expected to find in his bedroom of all places? Ah. Might he be having a dream? Yeah, he was on the verge of waking up and he had classes to attend, he knew that, so he was introducing, subconsciously, a voice that was designed to wake himself up. Ugh, that was just way too much thinking, and too complex a thought, for this hour of the day.

"I have other matters, complex and important work, to attend to today and sitting here babysitting your lazy arse, sir, is not particularly high on my agenda."

Hnnn. That voice was familiar and through the haze the thought that the voice somehow constituted authority occurred to him. The voice was undoubtedly familiar to him and it was not the voice he had expected to stir him if he was being just a little tardy about getting up. Of his room-mates, Q, was always much more eloquent, polite to a fault and prone to dragging him out of bed by his feet if he did not respond by the second attempt. Zechsy, well, he was a vicious bastard. He was known to resort to tossing a glass of water in his face if the first attempt failed.

With friends like those there was no fear of missing class and they were the only one's who would be in his bedroom trying to roust him out, so therefore he had to be dreaming the annoying as shit voice. Cool. He could continue to ignore it and drift back to sleep.

"Mr. Maxwell, your vitals display your proximity to waking, ignoring me will not make me go away. Wake up."

"I tried to tell you that would not work with Duo. You have to take a more… hands on approach."

Hmmm, now that was a disturbing development. Yeah, okay, not so good. That had sounded more like Quatre, but if that was Quatre then… who was that other voice he was talking to? He acknowledged some sort of vague recognition of the voice, associating it with an authority figure maybe? He had cottonwool stuffing his head and he really would prefer to just settle down and go back to sleep and forget the world existed. Just once he might be a bit late to class… well, if he was honest with himself would it really hurt to maybe actually skip a class?

One class missed would not really affect his overall grade and though they might call Howard surely the wily old ship's Captain would not give him a thick ear just for one indiscretion?

"Duo! You have until the count of three to get your backside dirt side and allow the technician to give you the once over. If you don't get out you'll get a bucket of water in the face, not just a glass this time. One!"

Damn, Zechsy sounded a bit ticked off.

"Two!"

In fact he sounded down right pissed and the threat, not to mention the rising number count, rang enough warning bells in his fuzzy awareness to force him to pry his eyelids up, wince against the copious quantity of sunlight streaming into his room, and glare blearily about him.

"Huh?"

"Well, its something at least."

Since no 'three' accompanied the comment he assumed he was now safe from a sudden, and no doubt icy cold deluge. He scowled, peering up at the man standing closest to his bed for a long moment before recognition filtered into his aching head and gave him cause to deepen the frown he wore into a scowl.

"Jonesy?"

"That is Professor Jones to you, young man."

Professor Jones, his designated training team's chief technician no less. What was the man doing standing over his bed and frowning down at him? Well, he was obviously in the throes of a nightmare… right? He had to be. Jonesy had not haunted his dreams since the first six months of his tenure at Tsuberov and he had gotten over his natural caution of the stick of a man with the too aware hazel eyes who seemed to see right through him.

"Huh?"

"So eloquent, Mr. Maxwell, but I suppose it is sign enough that you will not be attending any classes today, and will instead be attending me in the laboratory. I will thank you to kindly shift your bones, get dressed and meet us in the lounge. Before we can return to the laboratories you all must eat and time is marching on."

"So… what time is it? Ah, and why are you in my room…? Erm, this isn't my room." Duo peered myopically about him, trying to place the rather ornate furnishings until something clicked in recognition. "Oh. The hotel."

"Exactly, Mr. Maxwell. You are not quite with us yet, are you? Still, that is nothing a decent meal and a few exercises under supervision will not cure. Come along, gentlemen, we will wait outside for Mr. Maxwell to get his act together."

He was vaguely aware of the two much younger men with the professor occupying his room, and both of them let out rather exasperated sounds as the professor motioned toward the general direction of the door.

"Only if you want him to go straight back to sleep again."

Ah, Zechs did not sound quite so pissed anymore, more exasperated really.

"Mr. Marquise, I am sure that at his age Mr. Maxwell is more than capable of getting himself out of bed."

The professor, Duo thought, sounded a bit short tempered which was somewhat unusual for Professor Jones, he was generally one of the 'better', more likeable Professors at Tsuberov.

"With all due respect, Professor Jones, Duo has a habit of dropping off rather easily when he's feeling not quite inclined to get up in the morning. If you would just wait outside I will make certain he gets his act together and favours the bathroom with his presence. Once I can be assured he will not go back to sleep I will join you and Zechs in the lounge."

He could feel all of the eyes on him, three pairs of intense eyes, assessing and calculating, but in all honestly he was not particularly fussed. He knew where he was now and he supposed there was a time limit imposed in which to catch their ride to Tsuberov, but it really seemed like such an effort to move. Odd. He felt so lethargic and disinclined to do anything but curl up and enjoy another snooze. Five more minutes would do no harm.

"I think… Perhaps you have a point, Mr. Winner. Very well, ensure Mr. Maxwell moves himself this side of the Christmas festivities, if you please. Come along, Mr. Marquise, you and I can spend the time engaging in assessment exercises."

Ah, the door closed, wonderful. The thick piled carpet would have silenced their footfall but that just gave him an added degree of peace. Less noise, less disturbance. He could just have a few minutes of resting…

"Get up, Duo! We don't have time to waste. I do not particularly want to leave Zechs alone with Professor Jones any longer than I have to."

Well that was just right over his head. Why would they not want to remain with their professors?

"Huh?"

True they could be annoying and no matter how hard you tried it was not easy to get a 'Well done' from some of the staff, though his not so reliable at the moment memory suggested Professor Jones had been fairer than many of the technical staff.

"Allah! What did that woman do, scramble your brain? Will you just get up and start to move around!"

Scramble his brain? What woman? Strong hands grasped his upper arm in a no nonsense manner and he was unceremoniously hauled out of bed until he tipped over the side and sprawled in a most undignified manner on the expensive wool carpet. Hissing in protest Duo righted himself, leaning his head back against the bed.

"Shit, Kat, what's the deal?" Annoyance did more to wake him up than all of the talking had thus far.

"Get up! Get in the shower and wake yourself up, but do NOT wash your hair. If you do that we will be here for what remains of the day."

Quatre sounded rather exasperated, looking toward the bedroom door with that little frown Duo recognised as meaning he was quite put out about something.

"Huh? You make it sound like its late or something. Damn, chill will you?"

Ohh, perhaps he should not have said anything because that glare was close to the eruption point he had learned not to push his friend beyond. Quatre Winner was a great guy, tolerant, fair minded to a fault, generous, infinitely patient… until you pushed him just that little bit too far. That quiet and shy schoolboy demeanour of his hid a rather vicious and cold hearted temper.

Quatre glared, hovering on the edge of a precipice before seeming to calm down with a disbelieving and terribly un gentlemanlike snort. "It is midday, Duo. After last night's more than unusual circumstances we are required to eat a calorie controlled meal under observed conditions before they cart us off to the laboratory. There all three of us will be required to undergo a full assessment criteria."

Blue eyes, shading toward light purple marked his confusion and rising irritation, blinked at Quatre and Duo's frown was back, though this time he at least looked around the room with something approximating his usual intelligence.

"Midday?"

"Yes," the single word was accompanied by an exasperated sigh. "Just after, actually."

There was something vaguely bothering Duo about something that Quatre had said. He was not exactly the brightest bunny on mornings after long work sessions, but he was sure he had not actually been in the lab for a prolonged training session for days and… what was it Quatre had said that bothered him?

*"Allah! What did that woman do, scramble your brain?"* He blinked as the words came back to him, feeding his confusion and nudging at something lurking in the fog that seemed to resist his every effort to push it aside.

"What woman?"

"Eh? Pardon? What woman?"

"You said 'what did that woman do, scramble your brain?' I… What the hell is going on?"

Quatre snorted, almost, but not quite, amused by the myopic blinking and clear confusion clouding his friend's mind. Befuddlement emanated from Duo, he honestly was confused, not understanding what was happening to him and Duo could be quite funny when he was befuddled, not that it happened often. Usually it took a prolonged work session to affect the normally bright eyed and extremely intelligent jokester after a hard work session. On heavy training days he was cleared of lessons for the next day to recuperate under the attention and handling of a medical technician for at least the first half of the day.

Quatre felt his irritation fading, reminding himself that he too was tired and would prefer to be in bed, but this was only a small slice out of the life or a working Psi. It was an indication of what lay ahead of them if they became licensed psi's of elevated rank on the legal tables. Whether his father would ever permit him to be a working psi remained to be seen, but for the moment that was a few years away and this was their first taste of the demands that could be placed on one.

He had to remember that Duo was a victim of an abuse of psychic talent. That the abuser was a young woman who did not realise her own strength, or have any level of mastery over her gift, was beside the point. The point was that Duo had had his mind clouded by another individual who had a much stronger and unrelated talent to Duo's primary ability. It was not Duo's fault that his head must feel about three sizes too large and nothing made sense to him.

"Princess Relena of Sanc. Remember her?"

Blink… Those blue eyes clouded, hints of purple swirling in their depths and… "Ah, shit!"

One hand pressed to his forehead, squashing his messy bangs at odd angles, covering his eyes. He failed to suppress the shiver that ran down his spine, a soft sound, almost like a squeak, not quite a moan escaped him. Oh yes, Duo remembered the blonde young woman, little more than a girl, who had approached him at the meet and greet after the evening meal. He also remembered the blinding headache he had been left with and now this cotton stuffed head… that was related to her?

"Language!" Quatre admonished him gently. "As far as the professors go Jones is one of the better ones and would probably look the other way, especially considering the circumstances, but there are more than Jones waiting outside. I really don't want to leave Zechs alone out there with them for any longer than I need to, so would you kindly wake the hell up and move your butt!"

"Oh, hell just froze over, Kitty Kat swore. Sort of." Duo tried for a cheeky smile and thought it fell rather flat. "Well, it was swearing for you."

"Duo!"

"Fine, fine, don't get your panties in a bunch. I'm awake. See, I'm up and heading for the bathroom."

Quatre watched, hiding his amusement as Duo heaved himself up from the floor with nothing resembling his usual spry grace. He wobbled alarmingly for a moment, prompting Quatre to reach out and steady him with a quick, firm hand. Duo really was out of sorts and he would, most likely, not be enjoying the bulk of what remained of the day.

In fact none of them would be enjoying the day. It would be filled with a barrage of tests, questions, exercises, more tests and additional copious intake of food, but then Duo would enjoy the extra opportunity to stuff his face; Duo liked food and the food at Tsuberov was always good. Not so Zechs, Quatre knew, who was never a heavy eater at the best of times and following a prolonged work session he was inclined to only pick at his food unless nudged, coaxed and cajoled to eat more.

"I am going to join Zechs and the waiting tech team. From what we have been told we will be eating downstairs in the main dining room and then heading over to the labs at Tsuberov. In all honesty I am amazed they allowed us to sleep so long."

"How long have you been up?" Duo wobbled over to his wardrobe, with each stride gaining stability and strength and began to select a presentable change of clothing.

"Barely two hours. Zechs woke up roughly an hour ago. The techs and medics were here when I woke up, a group of them in each room monitoring our sleeping patterns I think. From what I can gather of what I have heard of their conversations, they arrived here not an hour after I went to bed."

Duo winced, turning from the wardrobe, trousers shirt and a clean pair of boxers draped over one arm. "Guess someone at Tsuberov isn't too amused, eh?"

Quatre sighed softly and rubbed at the back of his neck, a rueful smile twitching his lips. "To put it mildly, but none of them have said anything to me, or to Zechs as far as I can tell, That suggests we are in trouble."

"I suppose they are involving you in lab time because you monitored the session between Zechs and the Prime?"

Quatre inclined his head. "Yeah, and I settled you instead of calling in a med team. I can expect to get my knuckles slapped, I guess, and I suppose they are right. You should have been under a technical team after what was done to you. Given they have not said much, at least not yet, I think the Prime might have had a few words with the appropriate persons at Tsuberov. We can hope we might be let off with a warning, if the tests reveal we took no harm."

Duo sniffed. "It's a whole batch of stupid idiotic fuss, that's what it all is."

Quatre shook his head slowly, well aware of the responsibilities Tsuberov had taken on when the curriculum had become something other than just a private university for the children of the rich and famous. Training burgeoning psi talent was not done without risk to everyone involved.

"We are not fully certified working psychics, Duo. Tsuverov is covering its backside and I can't say that I blame them. What took place last night was definitely against the regulations of any psi training institute I know, and I know them all. I checked them all out before I decided to come to Tsuberov."

And Duo admitted to himself that he knew it too, not that he had to say so aloud. He was tired, cranky and damn, he was getting hungry!

"Well, we will just see how much magic that Prime can work to keep you and Zechsy out of neck deep sump oil, shall we? Unfortunately he can't do anything that might help me. Not sure how much trouble I will be in with the Governors, but it's not the first time I'll get my fingers burned. I suppose I'll be put through every test known to man because of what happened, and they might invent a few just because I pissed them off. Can't say I am looking forward to it."

"Duo, there is no reason why you would be in any trouble. You are the victim, not the instigator. If you are envisioning every test you can imagine then imagine what they will be saying to Princess Relena, and what they will be subjecting her to in the laboratory!"

"Hey, man, she's a Princess. They won't say boo about it; or at least not much."

"Oh, you have no idea." Quatre rolled his eyes snorted softly in exasperated amusement, walking to the door with Duo on his heels. "Because she is who she is they will be harder on her than if she had come from the same background as Zechs. Duo, having a title such as 'princess' means having responsibilities to people of lesser social standing. Having a psi talent of measurable strength means having responsibilities to not inflict harm on other people. You combine the two sets of responsibilities together and what she did last night amounts to a major crime. It is a criminal offence to exert psi influence on an individual without their express consent, written in triplicate and approved by the appropriate government agencies. Duo, they will come down on her like a ton weight dropped from the third floor of the main lab before she really hurts someone."

Duo winced, wondering just how much of that rule applied to future rulers of ancient countries, of course they were not in Sanc but still, wealth and prestige could sweep many things under thick piled carpets.

"In her defence, I really don't think the Princess meant to influence me, Quatre."

Quatre inclined his head, resting his hand on the doorknob and glancing over his shoulder at his friend. "That it was an accident is no excuse when you have that kind of ability. That is why Tsuberov is what it is, and why she is here to study."

"Yeah. Well, we will see what happens I suppose. Give me a few minutes to have a shower and finish waking up. Won't be long, promise."

He did not even take the time to glance around the sitting room, simply slipped quickly into the bathroom and gained the impression there were a large number of bodies in that room. Despite wanting nothing more than to lie back in the shower and allow the blessedly hot water to flow over him, he was good to his word. He was far from eager to feel like a specimen of some particularly interesting and obscure insect species to be examined under a microscope, but he knew the inevitability of it. Delaying would not avoid the tests to come, merely aggravate the technical team who probably had had something far more interesting planned for the day.

It was an uncomfortable silence that greeted him when he joined the group. Otto's security team was on prominent display, much more so than he thought was really necessary, not that he had ever considered their presence necessary. Tsuberov was paranoid about security in his view, but there was, once again, nothing that could be done about it. It was just one of those things one had to deal with if one was fortunate enough to attend Tsuberov with all of its wealthier than thou students and their big shot parents.

Scholarship students were by far in the minority at Tsuberov and talent aside, in such a place wealth and prestige was considered important.

Zechs, he noted, looked anything but amused, sitting stiffly erect and overshadowed by the looming presence of a medic and psi technician. Quatre was tight lipped and had his own medic and technician shadowing him as he stood up. No one appeared to be in the greatest frame of mind, if anything the technical team was probably the most unamused of them all. It well might be a high class dining room with some of the best chef's in the world preparing the food but this breakfast they were marching to somehow had the air of a hanging.

The opulent décor of the grand hotel seemed terribly out of place for the sombre nature of their party as they trooped through the foyer toward the sectioned off dining room. He glanced over the already laid out table as a waiter moved aside, escorted out of the room by a security guard which Duo considered a bit excessive. But then they were all high talent psi individuals who had undergone a strenuous evening, some more so than the others, and by Tsuberov regulations such students were to be kept segregated, if possible, from outsiders until they were cleared to mingle. The hotel was a far cry from controlled laboratory conditions.

His taste buds awoke with a vengeance, inciting his appetite and drawing a demonic growl from his empty belly, reminding him it had been hours since he had last eaten. A meal had been brought at the direction of the Prime in the small hours of the morning, but it seemed days away instead of mere hours.

Every effort was made to feed a working psychic a high calorie intake over a twenty four hour period following a work session to replenish energy used, and the food was generally made to look as attractive and tempting as humanly possible. Most psi individuals after a prolonged session would not have cared what the food they shovelled into their mouths looked like as long as it filled their need, but food that looked as though it wanted to be eaten was certainly a bonus.

Most psi individuals, but not all, had a willing appetite.

Zechs looked as though he was unwilling to even look at the menu on offer let alone sample it. His notorious lack of appetite was well known to the technicians in attendance and particular care had been taken in dealing with the young man. In pride of place in a tall crystal glass, the hotel prided itself on its presentation, stood a protein shake that seemed to incorporate all of the colours of the rainbow. It was topped off with artfully arranged succulent looking strawberries, peach slices and pineapple as garnish.

Duo eyed the tall frosted glass for a long moment and then looked expectantly at the other two place settings at the table, neither of which boasted such a concoction, drawing a sulky pout and hard look at the medic shadowing him.

"I want one of those."

"Here. Have this one." Zechs thumped his tall frame into the waiting chair his technician was holding for him and slid the glass across the table.

"I think not." A tech in attendance slid it right back again. "We can order another for Mr. Maxwell."

Quatre eyed off the frosted glass for a long moment as he settled into his place and grinned. "I want one too."

One of the technical team sighed, deep and exasperated. Psi's were notoriously finicky about their likes and dislikes after work sessions, particularly teenagers. It was highly possible Maxwell and Winner would take one sip of their drinks when they were presented and push it away, deciding they did not want it after all. It was not, contrary to popular belief amidst the non psi community, bloody mindedness or the foibles of the spoilt elite that drew such behaviour, but rather disrupted chemical factors in the brain affecting the body of the working psi.

Those students who attended Tsuberov's Parapsychic Laboratories were no low class psychic charlatans, but sensitive and strong individuals in training to work long and hard hours by manipulating their brains in uncommon ways. High level work initiated complex chemical reactions throughout the body and a balanced, well maintained diet was a key factor in maintaining health; along with copious amounts of selective training in how to restore the natural balance to a body.

What looked to be appetising to the mind, and was to an ordinary individual's taste buds, might well taste like acid to one psi or ambrosia to another. Delicious might turn to abominable mid way through a meal. It was a complex dance of foods and patience for all parties involved.

"It is a complete meal. If you get through that in good order the medics will be satisfied if you do not eat anything else for a couple of hours." the technician hovering at Zechs' side spoke quietly, encouragingly, knowing of old how unappetising food looked to the blonde.

Zechs, contrary to all training in etiquette that had been drilled into him since arriving at Tsuberov, dropped his elbows onto the table and his head into his hands. He simply could not face food despite knowing the need to suffer through it.

Quatre sighed and eyed off the selection of food arrayed before him, deciding to start off with something simple; whole grained bread, toasted, with scrambled eggs dotted with mushrooms and Spanish onions. He would then move on to the more elaborate offerings. He was hungry enough to eat a horse.

Duo fiddled with the end of his braid and eyed off the cluster of plates around his section of the table and decided a good old fashioned breakfast of eggs, bacon, sausages and grilled tomato would start the pick me up off nicely; he could ignore the miniscule little bits of green stuff dotting his tomato.

"I still want one of those." He pointed to the tall frosted glass.

OOOOOoooooooOOOOOO

Noin stretched slowly in her seat, leaning back from the desk and the open file resting there. She ran a hand thought her short black hair, eyes closed, considering the information she had been given. Une nursed a third cup of coffee, brown eyes distant and seeming to look through the centre of the clock dominating the far wall.

"He was found compacted into a refrigerator and he is still there?'

Une inclined her head slightly in the affirmative, not dropping her gaze or moving in any other aspect. It was not a pretty death and she had gone through the medical examiners report with Noin so there was no doubt of how the individual had met his end. It was, really, not pleasant; but not as bad as the poor youth in that alley.

"Apparently so. The Tsuberov student who first noticed his presence there had not realised he was a Medium talent and was rather… incoherent initially. The Prime had a long talk to him whilst the refrigerator was transported to the laboratory here, calming him down and ensuring he does not speak of the matter to any of the other students."

"The student will now receive testing for a Medium's talent?" She was always keen on getting others who shared her speciality training.

Too many developing Medium's tended to block their ability from fear after having endured frightening encounters. Not all shades were the wandering lost seeking closure and guidance, and Noin had had her share of nasty encounters. To a newly developing Medium such an encounter could drive them to block their ability.

"He will. The Prime knows him personally, I understand, and made a point of speaking to the appropriate Tsuberov staff both to keep the matter hushed, and to arrange appropriate testing for Barton. I am sure you understand the need for discretion with this case?"

"Indeed. Considering the identity of the student involved and his familial influence, not to mention the matter of a murder in such an institution… Yes, I understand."

Une finally dropped her gaze, glancing at the woman seated across from her before fingering the file spread before her, a copy of the case file opened before Noin. "I have had a staff Medium check the refrigerator and she affirms the refrigerator is not exactly 'vacant'. The shade initially has ignored her presence."

Noin pursed her lips. "Totally?"

Une shrugged. "All I know is she could see the shade, but he would not acknowledge her when she attempted to speak with him."

Noin was fairly impressed with Une. Most people, psi or not, were more than a little wary of speaking of the dead as a lingering, sentient entity. In the view of the majority of the worlds populous once you were dead that was it, you were dead. You ceased to exist. Religions had their own view on what happened to the soul, or 'essence' of the individual, but to the vast majority of people when you were dead you passed on… to what they were not particularly concerned with. It was, in so many ways, a very material, hands on world.

Only a select few individuals knew what lay beyond what you saw with the material eye; what you could touch with the material hand. The dead who lingered in the material 'living' world generally had something outstanding, some unfinished business that required them to seek closure. Unfulfilled obligations was merely scratching the surface of reasons for the dead to linger and, in too many cases in her view, those who were prematurely thrown from the living world by the wanton act of murder had just cause to linger.

"I am somewhat surprised he has not at least left the confines of the refrigerator. Lingering near, that I can understand, but actually remaining in it? That may be important."

"To him personally, or to the case? I can barely understand the living let alone deal with what the dead think." Une sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose and pushing her glasses up delicately. "The refrigerator is under guard and is checked multiple times a day. Additionally an attempt is made daily to engage the shade of the man, but he has thus far ignored every overture. Perhaps a higher talent can engage him?"

"I hope so. The thought of him being stuffed into a…" Noin shuddered delicately. "That is just so wrong! Given there appears to be strong evidence these two murders are linked, which victim would you prefer I approach first?"

"To be honest I have no idea if the shade of the latest victim lingers." Une murmured. "As far as I know the police have not brought in a Medium of their own, and I have been wary of sending in our resident Medium. She is a level 5 empath and given how Treize reacted…" Une shivered delicately. "I was reluctant to chance her attending the crime scene."

Noin inclined her head slightly in acknowledgement and no small amount of understanding. It would be a delicate thing to expose an empath of levelled status to such an atmosphere. Well, such an empathic dilemma was not a problem for her, she was no levelled empath. Sensitive, yes, but not an empath who would be swamped with residue from killer and victim alike. She had never once encountered a crime scene where the killer was totally dispassionate.

"Perhaps it would be best if I attended the latest crime scene and ascertained if there is a lingering presence? I can only hope the poor soul has passed on."

Une stirred, leaning back in her seat and focused her attention on the woman across from her. She was not sure if she hoped for the same, though it was cruel to hope the victim had passed on. They would gain nothing if they could not 'speak' to the only witness they might have. They really had to get the killer under control and off the streets.

"I will arrange a car and an assistant for you and notify the appropriate authorities that you will be attending the crime scene. If there is no lingering shade in the alley, perhaps you might attend the city morgue and ascertain the shade does not linger near its body? I will notify the resident authorities of your presence there should it be required. And I apologise in advance if certain pig faced idiots put in an appearance somewhere during the length of your day. Get your assistant to give me a call and I will see about restraining his overzealous tendencies."

"He is, I think, a passionate man who has seen the worst the world has to offer… and then found something worse."

"Indeed." Une sighed. "Something worse."

Karina Robertson 2011

OOOOOoooooOOOO

Notes:

Lucrezia Noin: Italian. Prime Level Medium [Clairaudient] Talent. Level 6 Send / Receive Telepath. Training facility, Psychic Institute Rome Division. [21 years of age]

Commander Anne Une: Level 8 Telekinetic. Operations Commander of The Agency. Contracted term of 10 years with 7 years remaining. Berlin Division. [22 yrs old].

Quatre Rababer Winner: Psi student, 2nd year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Current Level 5 Telepath, projected Level 7, Current Level Receiving Empath 9.3, projected Level 10, Prime. Current Sending Empath Level 2, projected Level 4. Colony of Origin, L4 Cluster [18 years of age]

Duo Maxwell: Psi Student , 3rd year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Level 8 Psychokinetic ability, projected level 9. Sending Telepath Level 5. Colony of Origin L2 Cluster [ 18 years of age] Sweeper adoptee. Under pre contract agreement with Sweepers.

Zechs Marquise: Psi Student 5th year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Level 10 Receiving/Projecting Empath [approaching Prime Designation] + Level 9 Sending /Receiving Telepath, Projected L10 function. Finder function suspected, not officially registered. Country of origin, Luxemburg. [20 years of age]

Professor Jones, Technical Training Officer, Tsuberov, 5th year tenure. Age 45years.

OOOOOoooooooOOOO

So sorry for the length between chapters. Real life gets pretty full on at times, but late as it may be, there will be more chapters forthcoming. Of this and Alternatives too.

Karina


	43. Chapter 43

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 43/?

Author: Karina

Pairings 13x6 [eventual], 5xS [established], 3x4, Others undecided at this time.

Warnings: Extreme Alternate Universe setting. Aussie spelling, not much else in the early chapters though it will involve murder, stalking and possibly some colourful language down the track. Some Out Of Character depictions are unavoidable considering the alternate universe setting.

Rating: M [In Australia that would be mature adult 15+] Not sure with the new rating system. Rated for murder and violence as well as adult concepts.

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. That's about as plain as you could say it.

Many thanks to the wonderful ShenLong Deb for betaing this chapter for me.

/…/ Thoughts

~/.../~ Telepathy

Agency: Meeting of Souls

Chapter 43

For all of the years that had passed before her eyes in grand procession, for all of the hardships she had endured during her long life, for all of the joys and the tears, the heartbreak and the ecstasy experienced with each sunrise passing into sunset; for the shared laughter and the tears… She would forever and always adore her grandchildren.

It was of no account just how many 'greats' could be tacked on to 'grandchild'. They were all her children, her flesh and blood, her enduring legacy to the future. Each and every one of them, male and female, was as precious to her as the daughter long years lost to her, whose bloodline continued on in them. These grandchildren who were not children at all but young adults, whom she had sworn to protect and oversee; she had taken them away from all they had known.

And she would gift to them a better future than they could hope to dream of as Cousins of the Peacecraft lineage.

They had freely chosen to follow her, placing their trust in her above the King who was their kin, and for their faith she would ensure they did not come to regret their decision.

Her daughter had died long years ago, so very many years had passed since her passing, and yet still she lived on, watching as her descendants increased in number and flourished in their fertility, safe beneath the protection of a crown. Watching them from afar she had not once regretted her long years or the often painful, and always invasive, procedures. Those sessions with the best geneticists, surgeons and therapists in the ESUN saw her still viable in an ancient body well past its prime, and as strong in her talent as she had been in her prime.

Her days might be numbered, she knew they were and she would not fight that moment when it came, but her time was not, as yet, done. There was time to make another play, to set another scheme in motion to benefit generations as yet unborn.

No one need ever know whose fingers manipulated so much with precision that exceeded the finest jewellers manipulating the thinnest imaginable strand of precious golden wire into a complex Celtic knot. She did not need anyone to know who laid down the foundations that guided future events. She did not need recognition… or cursing of her name… as a reward. It was something she was capable of doing, she had the will to do it and the fortitude to persevere against opposition, and therefore it must be done.

She could hear muted whispers of conversation from all about her. From somewhere behind her the softest strains of an ancient waltz played and the low murmur of amused voices. If she bothered to concentrate she might hear what it was they were discussing, but at present she could not bring herself to stir beyond this level of awareness.

There was the steady vibration and muted thunder of the engines underlying all other sounds, and it was that which had lulled her to sleep soon after departing New Port City. Her internal clock informed her she had been sleeping for hours and soon she would need to stir herself, but for now she was content to simply listen and 'feel' with her talent. She could hear no sound to suggest dissent; she sensed no overtones of doubt in the mixed auras surrounding her.

It was good.

It was a quiet sojourn that she needed after the strain of the night's working session and the subsequent succession of disasters and arguments that had followed. She had prevailed in winning freedom for her children against the King and family objections, and whilst she did not know any of these young people on a personal level, she was already gaining respect for them.

Trusting her as they had after knowing so little of her, beyond the horrors of her reputation, she would ensure they would never regret following her from their assured security into the unknown.

She had never been one to take kindly to idiots and fools, and the two were distinctly different in her opinion. The objections raised against her claiming these few of the ever growing horde she could claim as blood kin, who had shone in her 'sight', had been dealt with. She had not hesitated to claim them and they had not hesitated to accept her offer. They had understood each other on a level few but the most sensitive of empaths might have sensed.

Objections had come thick and fast from their families, and from Stephan himself, but she had, as she had known she would, prevailed against them. Though they had grown within the protected glasshouse society that was Sanc, and were reared to the isolated formalities of the palace court, each and every one of these children held her legacy. It was in her genetics, in their genetics, and she would not see it wasted.

Sharp minds, strong psi potential, and spirits free enough to yearn for something more than the golden cage that surrounded them. Her chosen of them were all strong willed enough to jump at the chance she offered to go beyond the borders of their homeland. Her offer had been accepted by them eagerly, as she had suspected it would be, but it had not ended there, with their willingness to leave with her. It had been no simple matter to extricate them from Sanc in so short a time.

Parents had protested, most of them members of the aristocracy of the small kingdom, and in some cases older and younger siblings had protested the separation. She had been required to give guarantees, offer reassurances of safety, protection and employment, for further education in some instances, but ultimately she had gained parental consent for those who required it. A few of their number were legitimate heirs to ancient bloodlines and for them she had held up the example of her Khushrenada, a titled Duke, working in the outside world and content with his lot, managing his hereditary duties with accomplished aplomb.

Then, of course, there was the harder battle.

Stephan Peacecraft had not been pleased. Not at all.

They were the cream of the Cousins, those youngest already in service to the Crown and those coming up through their training to hold ranks of distinction. He had protested, he had argued, he had shouted and he had whispered threats, but in the end he had allowed it. She was a stubborn old bird, too tough to be eaten, and she knew enough of dealing with politicians to manage him.

And she had taken no particular delight in reminding him that his efforts would be best directed to putting his house into order.

The Queen was anything but amused by the revelations that had taken place during the night, and it would be no easy matter for him to deal with the aftermath. Katherine Weyridge Peacecraft was a prideful woman, strong and her pride would not easily be appeased by the revelations that had taken place.

Gabriella took no pride in what had happened, it had been messy, dirty and underhanded, but the dead should have their day, and in this case the dead belonged to her own bloodline. No, she did not regret her action. It was past time the Queen of Sanc learned the truth of what had happened. Katherine, after all, had, unknowingly, been involved in the mess and whilst innocent of the actual deeds, she had a right to know.

He had claimed, in a venomous hiss, that none of that mess shrouded in the past was of any concern of hers.

How wrong he was.

He was a grandchild too, she had not forgotten that, but he appeared to have conveniently forgotten that she was his grandmother. That was the politician in him, conveniently forgetting or misrepresenting the unpalatable. She would have none of that, not from him or anyone else in the wide ESUN. He had certainly forgotten just what it took to deal with her when her ire was raised, and it had been raised during their 'discussions' of events taken place more than a score of years ago.

As far as she was concerned, he had made his bed years before she had returned to Sanc, giving in to the demands of others, to the deception and the lies. In the interceding years since he had given no hint of regret and she had watched, seeking some sign he would make a move but no, she could see little effort on his part to deal with those mistakes. Not even a token attempt to seal bleeding wounds had been made; he had not sought her out to ask either advice or aid.

Decisions had been made, yes, that was obvious. Many decisions had been made, but none of them with her input and there had been no actual attempt to resolve the old issues. No attempt to restore the equilibrium to a neutral standing. No truth spoken in private with Katherine and, if it had not come in twenty years, then it would not come at all without a good old fashioned push in the back.

As far as Gabriella was concerned, for that oversight on his part, for deciding that 'this' was how events must now progress when the past reared its head to haunt him a few years ago… Ah, he could have contacted her then and she would have acted, quietly, discretely, but no. He had made his own decisions, seeking to hide behind deception and deceit and cover past mistakes in yet another layer of lies. For that he could wallow in the mud that was the quagmire he had made for himself.

Sometimes children needed harsh lessons.

She could not abide lies and the degree of deceit used to keep what had happened from her in the intervening years, and from the woman who wore the crown, put simply, infuriated her. What had happened then could not, should not, forever lie beneath a carpet of ignorance. Katherine at least deserved to know.

None of it was generally known, few even in the King's select inner circle knew of the matter. Indeed it did not need to be announced from the tallest tower for all and sundry to goggle at the idiocy of the upper echelon of society. Spreading dirty laundry for all to see was not her intention.

It had never been her intention.

The entire sordid mess would remain a secret to the general population of Sanc and to the ESUN at large, but in her opinion that woman had a right to know, and thus she had told her. In private, with discretion, but firmly and factually. He might have thought he could keep the details from her but no one could deceive Gabriella. She had her ways of gathering information and she did not doubt she knew far more of what had happened in Sanc at that time than Stephan himself.

And how dare Stephan attempt to lie to 'her'.

It was the principle of the thing!

No one lied to Gabriella. Not for many, many years had someone had the poor taste to outright baldly lie to her.

No one did that to Gabriella and escaped unscathed.

She could be the original, sweet little old lady, a role that, to be honest, she liked playing. But she was more at home with the persona of the cold eyed executioner she had all too often needed to display to the world. It was no trick of fate that she had such a worrisome reputation. She had worked hard to achieve it and did not appreciate being dismissed as Stephan had dismissed her.

His punishment for his trespasses against her, against his Queen, and against the Houses of Volksam and Carruthers, was to put his house into order. No small feat given Katherine's reaction to the news, and, of course, the greater punishment would be that he was to lose the brightest and most promising stars in Sanc… and the brightest of them all currently residing at Tsuberov, to her.

That bright eyed boy with the Sexy Eyes would never set foot in Sanc if Gabriella had her way.

"Grandmother?"

Ah, he was a bright one, the brightest shining of those she had coaxed away from Sanc. She had determined from the moment she had made his acquaintance on her arrival in New Port City that he would be hers. He, like these few others who had chosen to come, would be wasted in Sanc.

She would attend to their neglected education, allowing them to surpass what had been planned for them on their births, offering to them the wide world and the colonies if they chose to excel. They were already trained as administrators and had received extensive psi training, but they had not been pushed to excellence and she could not abide such waste.

Their fate had been determined, chosen at birth, their designation given, their education planned to the smallest detail and then they were placed in select positions. Hot house flowers destined for the vases of the rich and famous, for the aristocracy of Sanc. Some few of them had been born from legitimate marriage and were trained to succeed their parents, but even then, they were not pushed to excel in their chosen fields.

They had not been given the choice to go in any directions other than those Sanc needed.

A crime, as far as Gabriella was concerned. One needed to have one's own interests, diversions and sense of achievement at exceeding the goals one set for oneself.

"Grandmother?"

Adrian Carruthers. Twenty eight years old, accredited and certified as a Level 5 Receiving and Projecting telepath. Initial training performed in Sanc under private supervision, and supplementary training and official certification performed at the Luxemburg Psi Institute. Confirmed favourite of both Stephan and Katherine of Sanc. Pagan had had a marked liking for this one too, so much so that he was as reluctant to part with him as had been the King and Queen.

But Gabriella already had plans for him. A brief investigation of his file informed her he had the potential to increase his level 5 certification to level 6, perhaps higher. Beneath her supervision he would be given the chance. From the moment she had laid eyes on him, sensing his ability, observing him with both physical eyes and psychic attention, she had devised uses for him. Occupations that would be of greater benefit and pleasure to him than dancing attendance on his own kin who judged themselves to be better than he.

Really as if which side of the bed sheets one was born on really determined ones potential. Sanc's nobility was well blooded by the mixing of so called 'Cousin's' marrying into the nobility. The noble houses all kept assiduously maintained stud books in order to keep the bloodlines refreshed, vital and healthy.

Gabriella could not abide that stigma. 'The wrong side of the sheets', indeed. One made oneself, not one's birth. One should never surrender to the expectation of others but strive to excel, to stride past the limits others set and show to the world the value of one's worth.

She had no doubt her grandchildren, would grasp the opportunities she would open to them and stride forward. She had chosen the young adults she could sense yearning for more than what was expected of them; feeling caged, constrained by the walls surrounding them, and not all of them realised what it was that bothered them, merely that they were discontent. These were the grandchildren who felt their gypsy blood the strongest. She would direct and focus that restlessness, but she would always keep an ear focused to determine their content.

Discontent she would not abide. Nor was it simply for them to be content. She wanted more for them. Joy, happiness… that was what she desired they strive for. Advancement of their inner self. It did not matter if they failed, it was only important that they try; that they have the chance to try. That was what was important… and what grandchild of hers would ever fail?

Ah, she was sounding like a soppy old woman, even to herself. Enough with the introspection on a most unpleasant stay in the palace. Good things had come of it, would continue to come of it, so the unpleasantness could be dumped and forgotten. It was time to start work on those pleasant things for these younglings who placed their trust in her.

"Awake Gabriella is."

She reached for the seat controls to move her chair into a more upright position only to have a larger, stronger hand settle beneath her fingers. He was kneeling at the side of her chair, bright eyed, smiling and a very welcome sight to old eyes. They were very pretty, these Peacecraft children, no matter what name they carried. Especially the boys.

Not that she was prejudiced.

"A protein shake and a light meal have been prepared for you, if you are ready for them?"

Ready to eat? No, mentally she was far from being ready to eat, but her physical body was ravenous following the work through the night and she was well trained in the needs of the working psychic. She did not 'want' to eat, but she needed to, so there would be no protest, no refusal. She would not set a poor example for her children.

The private jet was sizeable and provided for her use by Pagan. She was uncertain if Stephan had given instructions for the jet to be prepared, or if Pagan had taken it upon himself to ease her departure from Sanc. Likely her ill tempered descendant who sat upon the throne of Sanc would have best been pleased if she had sat her sizeable posterior on the back of a particularly scrawny donkey and clopped her way out of the country. But then, he might not have wished to burden any donkey with her. After the forceful impact of her visit, and the disruption she left in her wake, a donkey would undoubtedly have been too slow for his liking.

She grinned at the thought and just hoped she did not frighten off the young stud now standing beside her as her chair settled into the upright position and she worked her way up from her comfortable slouch in the admittedly very comfortable seat. Sparing a quick glance around the jet as he settled the tray in place for her, she noted each one of them, acknowledging their reception of her wakeful state.

All in place, no bright young faces showing obvious second thoughts… Smiling faces and smiling eyes. Good.

They ranged in age from Adrian Carruthers at twenty eight years to the bright young Kristiella at a newly turned twenty one. In so many ways the country of Sanc was considered a backwater, and one of the reasons for that was the coming of age for the younger generations still rested at twenty one. In Sanc it was illegal for those not considered to be adult to drink, enter bars, vote or marry without the express consent of parents or a legally designated guardian. Sanc gave certain concessions to visiting younger people given that the rest of the world gave adult standing to sixteen year olds, far too young in Gabriella's opinion, but she did not make the rules… though she rejoiced in the chance to change them.

There were in Sanc three of the Cousins currently under twenty one she now had her eye on, and she would follow their development attentively. Sanc bred psychic talent into its children and had done so for centuries, though not always knowingly. The aristocracy of the country were all related to some degree, and their habit of not objecting to young studs indulging their wild oats mixed the gene pool of the common population. Not all of the Cousins were called into service by the Crown, though all were 'known' to the Crown.

It still amazed her that Sanc had never suffered blood wars over the right to the succession, because of the number of blooded heirs walking around the country. Before she lost her faculties and became just a decrepit ancient bag of bones waiting to die, she really had to spend some time studying just how they managed to keep their Cousins content enough not to cause contention for the crown. Half of the parliament of the country claimed blood kinship to the Crown, up to the sixth generation, and she estimated that a good sixty percent of the staff in confidential positions in the government and the Palace were Cousins.

It really could do with her attention to see just how they managed to maintain order, but not today. Unfortunately today she had far graver concerns to attend to. Poking around in ancient history would be a pleasure she must reserve for a later time.

Looking over the selection of food laid out on the tray she was well pleased. She could stomach this without a problem and it would do much to replenish her depleted reserves. There was much to do and only a limited time in which she would have to perform satisfactorily.

She would require copies of all files pertaining to the case her Naughty Boy had been working on. She did not expect to have a fight with that Une woman who, following their last meeting, would no doubt recall her place. Of course, given his nature her Naughty Boy would refuse to abandon the case voluntarily, or be removed from it forcefully. She would assure him she had no intention of excluding him or replacing him, she would be present to support him, nothing more.

And in the process she would teach his employers just how they should be treating a Prime Telepathic Empath. He might not like to be pampered, but there were certain requirements she would insist be met… and it was now clear they would need her assistance with the one they were hunting.

Perhaps she might even need to request one or two of the other Prime talents.

What had befallen her Khushrenada could happen to any telepath or empath of a high level, but a telepathic empath such as her Khushrenada was the most susceptible. There could be no mistaking the Killer's strength. He was strong, perhaps too strong, and given what she knew of the case it might already be too late to save him. She would try, of course, it was in her nature to salvage who she could, but she would not sacrifice her Naughty Boy in an attempt to tame a Prime level talent gone well out of control.

She would not sacrifice her Naughty Boy, or her lovely blonde young stud with the killer blue eyes… or anyone else unfortunate enough to cross the out of control psychic's path. The simple truth of the matter was they had to snare this one, one way or the other, before more people died.

Two deaths already she could attribute to this Killer, and she feared there might be more. Certainly there would be more, potentially many more, if they did not locate and contain him soon.

He might not have started out to be a threat, a killer, but the path to insanity could be swift indeed when one involved enhancement drugs, psychotropics and no appreciable training or discipline. That was what she feared this Killer was all about. Psychoactive persons, namely psychic individuals, should never mix their minds talent with the use of uncontrolled chemical abuse.

There were a few drugs of such a nature used in the training of Psi talent, and those that were considered to be safe for use were under rigid controls by the ESUN's Health Authority. If, as they suspected, an unknown cocktail of chemicals was involved… over recent months it had come to her attention that law enforcement agencies around the ESUN were encountering a growing number of cases involving drugs. The drugs were targeted to the young and foolish and were undoubtedly pushed by a black market reaping copious rewards for their use.

It was, much as she wished not to entertain the notion, possible that the source of the drugs was a drug company running illegal experiments using the cocktail. It would not be the first time the general population, the homeless and the disaffected of society, had been used to test an experimental drug base.

She needed to know the exact chemical composition of the drugs so that she might determine the source of the poison flowing through to the young. She would know. She must know.

These scientists, thugs and crime lords and their pushers had to be stopped before they ruined all of her hard work and dreams to have the future generations of psychics protected from exploitation.

It would be best for her to arrange for the files to be waiting for her at her Naughty Boy's residence. He might not feel so threatened by her intervention if she was open with him about her interest in the case. Before she could attend to that she must first settle her grandchildren; quickly, but in no way shorting them of her attention after snatching them from their homes. With them settled and considering what she offered them, she could then attend to her Khushrenada and repair the damages done.

She would need to relieve his distress and set him to resting peacefully without the use of drugs to cloud his system. He did not approve the use of drugs any more than she did, and used them only when there was no other option available. In this instance, she was the 'other option'.

And somewhere in her busy day she must make a stop at Tsuberov and have a few choice words in certain people's ears. Her almost feral grin was hidden from her grandchildren by the raising of the protein shake to her lips, but her eyes danced with an unholy gleam. Oh, she would enjoy her visit to the University Institute.

She needed to see Him settled. Assure herself he had taken no hurt from the session she had shared the night before. It would give her the greatest pleasure to revise his work schedule, his training format and, if necessary, toss out any instructors she deemed inappropriate to his comfort.

He belonged to her now.

He would remain beneath her guiding hand until she was content he was prepared to face the world at large, much as these kin of his would remain beneath her attention. Those persons who had extended their hands to shadow his life from Sanc, and who had thought to rule his life in the future, now realised she would not let go of him. They might yet try a gambit to regain control over him, she would not put that past Stephan at all, but 'they' would not succeed.

Her hand would be hovering protectively over him.

She had an advantage none of them could change. The truth of the matter was that he was not born within the borders of Sanc and, therefore, they really had no claim on him. Even Pagan, whom she did not blame for this mess, though at one time she had, would defer to her will in this.

She would not permit any of them to ruin him.

"Grandmother?"

Pulled back from her speculations dark eyes drifted to the speaker, a dark haired young woman in her mid twenties who had shifted forward in her seat and who looked uncertain. A pretty young woman, it was not just the boys who had remarkable beauty, the long dark hair bringing to mind her gypsy ancestry, though this young woman's complexion was too pale and her eyes were blue, a shade or three deeper than the remarkable Peacecraft blue.

"Gabriella is being known to be biting and growling when biting and growling is needed, this is fact. Always more growling than biting, this too is true, but growling wonderfully works most times. Good this is, as 'chops'," she clicked her teeth together with a smirk, "what they used to be are not. Biting is effort most days, so saving biting for food Gabriella is. Most days, mind, not all days. Learned long ago Gabriella did that young ones learning nothing they would be if asking questions they do not."

The young woman dimpled, blushing lightly, and Gabriella thought that particular look could be a lethal weapon if deployed against the male of the species. There would be few men who did not react to the charm and beauty of her. A light mental probe when first they had met had informed Gabriella of all she needed to know about this one. Her mind was as sharp as a steel wolf trap and just as quick. She had been training to assume a place in the Sancian Parliament and had a natural inclination for politics, skills that would hold her in good stead in the wider world beyond Sanc.

"There was not much time for us to talk before we departed, and… well, I was wondering exactly what we would be doing… where we would be going?"

She could have them largely prepared to separate from her by the time they landed and Gabriella was well pleased they were attentively curious. There was not an ounce of unease in any of them, only healthy curiosity and a healthier expectation of change.

000ooo000

He had noticed in the past that some days had a unique life and time all of their own. These days began in a normal enough fashion, then progressed to odd or unexpected, and then time just… slowed down.

And the day became odd at best, and other worldly at worst.

This day had begun normal enough, he had awoken to a clear sky and, for the early hour, relative warmth. He had hoped to attract Quatre's attention, which would have been easy enough to do had Quatre frequented the cafeteria for breakfast, but these were not normal days. With the group of students staying at the hotel he had come to miss their usual breakfast routine of sitting together on mornings when they had no clash with morning classes.

His first inkling that the day would be anything but filled with the usual routine, came with the arrival a professor on his doorstep not five minutes after he had dragged himself out of the shower. A pleasant enough greeting had been exchanged, but then had come the not exactly welcome news he was excused from classes for the day and he would be re evaluated.

Laboratory three was his usual training facility, and the staff were his usual group of technicians, but there were a few new additions to his attendants, increasing the working groups numbers, and there was a disturbingly large bundle of notes spread over the professor's personal desk when he had been escorted in to be briefed on the days activities.

It had proven to be a long morning, not boring, of course, but long… and the afternoon was not likely to improve his circumstances. There had been little time for him to brood on the possible changes to his life the discovery of the previously unsuspected ability to see the dead would force on him.

He could not understand why he had never had any idea that he was a Medium. He had never before seen bodies lurking in kitchen appliances. He did not see dead people shuffling, walking, floating or otherwise moving around in his vicinity. It was just… wrong. There should have been some indication that he had been developing something other than his 'long ear'.

Regardless of what he thought was right or wrong about it, the fact was that something about his talent had shifted, changed. He had definitely seen that… 'person'… he had not a single doubt of that, and… and…

He really did not want to think about what he had witnessed, and he knew it was dangerous not to look into a developing aspect of an individual's psychic talent. He had been drilled in that simple truth since his psi talents had first manifested. That he had been summoned for a full days worth of testing to re determine an evaluation of his abilities said a lot about how seriously this unexpected development of talent was viewed.

Prime Khushrenada had been true to his word and had arranged for the examination to take place, but he had not been expecting action this quickly. He had thought it would take longer, that he would have more time to come to terms with the idea, but no… Obviously the Prime carried a lot of weight with the Board, and it was a well documented fact that Tsuberov did not allow their students to run around in the public domain if they were considered 'unsafe'.

Unsafe to themselves or others.

Really, he supposed he should have expected action would be quick and decisive. The Prime was not the sort of man who prevaricated and when he made up his mind that something should be done, well, that was that. Tsuberov, of course, would have responded to a 'request' from such an elite psychic with all appreciable haste.

He liked the red haired aristocrat, he honestly liked the man, though in truth he had not had many occasions in which to speak with him on a personal level. Their relationship consisted primarily of polite nods in passing and the odd spoken greeting, but Mariemaia was a link between them… and he did like his precocious little red haired cousin, who utterly adored her father.

The girl constantly talked about the man. She would avail him of her adventures when she returned from her visits with the Prime and spend hours bemoaning the fact that she saw so little of him. She whispered to him in private, and in confidence, that she would really prefer to live with her father than with her mother, and did that make her a bad daughter for she knew her mother loved her? It was the only time he could recall that Mariemaia sounded uncertain of herself.

She was precocious, opinionated and far, far older than her chronological years. It was all part and parcel with growing up in the Barton household.

He suppressed a shiver, wondering exactly what had been said when the Family had been notified of his change in psi development? He had no illusions as to his place in the Barton fold. He was a lesser cousin, generally considered insignificant on a whole, but useful should a need ever arise. He had been tested, as all Barton offspring were tested, and found to be psi active, so he had been included in the educational program and brought to the attention of the Patriarch. There were no doubt expectations held for him, and every other younger member of the family found to be psi active; that he would be used in the future for the advancement of the Barton Family was a foregone conclusion.

He was not the greatest student, being far from a genius level I.Q., but he managed to keep abreast of his lessons reasonably well through sheer hard work, and his psychic ability was rare enough that he had been given over to Tsuberov for training. He had no illusions about the course his future would take. Dekim Barton had plans for him, plans that would extend the power and influence of the family and its business concerns. His 'ear' had a multitude of uses that frightening old man would not hesitate to employ. It was the fate of the younger generations tied to the big conglomerates, much as it was a similar fate to those born into the old aristocracy, like the Khushrenada Duke.

And with that very Duke as an example, he dared to entertain hope that he might, somehow, fly free of the Patriarch's future designs. Might… It surely was not impossible for him to slip the leash at some point in the future.

There was a problem with that thought, of course. Not much escaped that particular individual's attention. Dekim Barton had fingers of steel and a grip that could bend a foot thick steel girder. It would not be so easy to escape him if Trowa had the misfortune to continually be brought to his attention.

He needed to walk a finely drawn line, or he might at any time be withdrawn from Tsuberov. He needed the education and training available here, it had the best facilities and the best instructors available. He needed that to have the skills to carve a place for himself if he broke away from the Barton family.

There was also the not so small matter of his boyfriend. He would never forgive himself if he caused trouble for Quatre. He had learned when he was still very young that Dekim Barton had no qualms about using people for his own advancement. His relationship with Quatre… to be used against him… That was not what Trowa wanted, not for himself or especially for Quatre. He had to be careful. If it came down to the worst case scenario, he knew he would run as far and as fast from Quatre as he could… anything to protect him from the designs of the Barton Patriarch.

He rubbed a hand over his eyes and sighed softly. He was tired. He had forgotten just how extensive Tsuberov's criteria was for investigating a developing psi talent. After only half the day he was feeling exhausted and he had a full barrage of tests ahead of him. This new set of tests would leave him feeling unable to move, though all of the work would be entirely mental, not physical in nature. He had already resigned himself to spending the night in the laboratory under monitored surveillance.

The one good thing about Tsuberov was that they fed you well. Extremely well.

It was early afternoon and this was the third meal of the day presented to him. His calorie intake had needed to be boosted due to the nature of the tests and, given how exhausted he felt, he was hoping they might just give him an hour or three to nap at some stage and gather his reserves. Some tests required him to be near dead on his feet; often the state of physical exhaustion could lower mental barriers and a person would be more receptive, more sensitive, to non physical stimulation.

He was well on his way to being exhausted, but the current break and meal would revive him enough, he was sure, to survive the afternoon.

A disturbance at the door to the shielded room drew his attention. Most of Tusuberov's laboratories claimed private rooms where students could rest and eat between sessions in guaranteed peace and quiet. Once he had been shown to the room Trowa had not expected to be interrupted until he was to begin another round of testing and it came as a surprise when the door opened. His eyes widened when Professor Jones entered with, of all people, Quatre trailing at his heels.

"Mr. Barton."

"Professor Jones?"

Trowa inclined his head in greeting as the Professor crossed the room and motioned for Quatre to take the seat at the table directly opposite Trowa and his feast. Without a word Quatre slipped into the seat, keeping his face carefully neutral as the Professor glanced between them.

"Mr. Winner appears to be capable of performing a certified Monitors duty outside of controlled laboratory conditions. Given this, and with your permission, Mr. Barton, we would like to monitor Mr. Winner as he monitors you during the next work session. Is this acceptable to you?"

Trowa blinked, startled. Quatre had been actively engaged in Psi monitoring outside of a training laboratory? What the hell had he been up to? And to make matters worse he had gotten caught. To say Tsuberov frowned on such things was rather an understatement. He did not doubt his friends astonishing Psi abilities, but Trowa was only too aware of how many years of training Quatre still had ahead of him at Tsuberov. With the professor focused on him he noted Quatre took the opportunity to meet his eyes and wink at him, settling him a little. For some reason Quatre was not worried about repercussions, it seemed, certainly he did not show any outward concern.

"Ah… Yes?"

A disgruntled snort from the professor snapped Trowa's attention back to him. "Mr. Barton, there is no way we would sanction Mr. Winner to act as monitor to an ant, let alone a student here, given the tentative nature of that affirmation. Nor should you have agreed at all, without first requesting Mr. Winner's file to check over his accreditations and current standings."

Ah, yes, where was his brain? Protocol. One must always remember to observe the protocols, if one intended to retain one's sanity, life and profession. He must have been more tired than he thought.

"Professor, I actually know Quatre and his current accreditations."

"Regardless of whether you know him or not, you will be a working psychic, a professional, in the not so distant future. If you survive that long making such idiotic mistakes. You will begin listening to your instructors more attentively and giving credit to what you are taught. You will begin training yourself to think like a professional, and that means no one, no one, Mr. Barton, monitors you without you knowing their accreditations. Knowing them means having them before you and checking for their validity."

A plastic file strip landed on the table before him and he could feel the Professor's eyes boring holes in him, accusing him. He had, apparently, failed a test of some kind with his instant, if tentative, acceptance of the request. Damn, one should never relax at Tsuberov. The staff were always, watching, always evaluating. The leaders of tomorrow were reared and trained here and they needed, were expected, to learn so very much. Not that he would be a world leader…

"Ah, yes, Professor. I will… remember that caution. I don't have a file t…"

The flat tablet required to read the file strip appeared in the Professor's hand and Trowa inclined his head slightly, snapping his mouth shut. The man seemed to be in quite the mood, he reflected as he took custody of the device and laid the file strip over the screen. He was not the only one who was having a far from pleasant day and he activated the scanner, dropping his head and focusing on the illuminated file.

000ooo000

Quatre sat quietly, eyes flicking from Trowa to the Professor and trying his best to look as neutral as possible. They had been brought to Tusberov, to the laboratories, after eating a sumptuous, for him at least, breakfast. Zechs certainly would not have agreed. They had been separated on arrival and taken to different laboratories to begin the barrage of tests awaiting them after the antics of the past night. Technical Training Teams had been waiting for them, and he had marked a few new faces amidst his usual number of technicians.

Plainly Tsuberov's Board of Governors was far from happy with the affair and, given the Professor's stiffer than normal and very proper demeanour, he could only hoped that Duo and Zechs were not in as much trouble as he appeared to be.

Monitoring a high level Psi working session was a serious matter, yes, he knew that, but anyone would have thought he was a criminal. Prime Khushrenada had assured them before he departed the night before that there would be no repercussions, that he would take care of the matter. He admitted they had not been summarily tossed out of Tsuberov on their collective rears, he had almost expected that to happen, but it was…. Uncomfortable… to say the least.

He was quite certain that the Board had not contacted his father with complaints over his irresponsible behaviour. If they had his father would have been in touch and berated him, loudly and decisively, if he had brought shame to the House of Winner.

His father was always aware of the weight of public opinion and the standing of their name within society. The Winner, and his father was always The Winner, could tolerate much from his son's often erratic and quite often rebellious behaviour, but Quatre knew quite well that he would not tolerate shame being brought to the House. Unauthorised use of his abilities, if events had gotten out of hand, would undoubtedly have had him being raked over the coals within minutes of the man being notified.

So he could expect, at least for the short term, to be spared his father's disapproval. All he could hope was that the Khushrenada Duke was good to his word and could control matters. Be quiet, be attentive to his instructors, perform flawlessly and trust in a perfect stranger to get his backside out of the fire. That was his formula for surviving this idiocy.

On settling into the laboratory he had found himself on the receiving end of a full physical examination. There after he had quietly submitted to a EEG, answered more questions than he cared to have asked of him and, finally, after wondering just how long a day could be, he had been brought here, to a seclusion room. Discovering the sun was still quite high in the heavens had been a bit of a surprise. He had thought it would have been much later than the hour it actually was.

Being escorted to such a room in itself he had expected, following the barrage of tests he had endured. He was physically and mentally tiring and Tsuberov's policy required he be given a break and his energy reserves be brought back up to par with a meal. What he had not expected was to find Trowa in residence, himself eating what was plainly a high calorie meal and looking like he could fall asleep at any moment. Clearly his special friend had been working just as intensively as he, if not more so.

A technician ghosted past him and, with the quietly phrased instruction that he eat, the man placed a large tray on the table opposite Trowa. Quatre was quick to obey, not wishing to further aggravate the Professor and flicked his gaze between his obviously curious friend and the looming Professor who seemed almost a stranger. Professor Jones had been one of the more approachable teaching staff, but he was out of sorts, to say the least.

"Now then, Mr. Barton. We request that you give your consent to have Mr. Winner sitting in on your next session and have him perform the tasks of a monitor? You are, of course, under no obligation to consent, given Mr. Winner's uncertified Monitor status at this time."

His one visible green eye blinked, widening slightly as he looked from the Professor to Quatre, and Quatre could just feel Trowa's curiosity blaze higher. His boyfriend was no idiot and he was well aware of just what stage Quatre had reached in his training.

/I suppose the theory behind this is to demonstrate to me just how unready I am. I know that already, but I did the work anyway, because it was necessary at the time. The Prime trusted me, and I think he was well aware of my stage of development. I've done it once, properly, the Prime was pleased with me and he checked me over before he left. I can do this, but I wonder why Trowa is in the labs at this time of the day? He usually has night sessions… and he looks exhausted./

He watched as Trowa read through his file. Not his fully detailed file, he knew, but the file containing all current skills and his certification level. Every courses he had passed, failed, and there were a few of those, and those courses he was currently working on would be in the file, including his overall evaluations. It was what a professional psi worker would require to read before working with another psychic of level accredited talent.

His greatest problem at present was the telepathic side of his talent. He was finding it difficult to work with others where pure telepathy was required. He honestly wondered if they had made a mistake with their projection of what his telepathic ability should level out to. But Tsuberov rarely made mistakes, and never mistakes of that kind. His Empathy, however, ah, that was another matter entirely. He already had the raw talent of a Prime, but he needed more training. He still had a few years at Tsuberov before he would be fully certified for work in the general population.

Gabriella had spoken to him briefly before she had departed the University complex. She had left him in no doubt that she was pleased with his progress; that he would receive an accreditation for a Prime's ranking in empathy. It was his telepathic abilities in question and the difficulties he was experiencing coping with it that would keep him from gaining the double accreditation of Prime. Regardless of whether he received the full T/E Prime ranking or not, she had said that she was looking forward to working with him in the future.

Gabriella. She was quite the character, but he was uncertain if he could survive her company for any extended period. Was it only her advanced years that gave her that air of… well… no, thinking about it he could not really put a name to 'it'. You were, within seconds of making her acquaintance, either in awe of her… or in a state of fear.

'Abject terror of her', he had heard other working psi's mutter on more than one occasion when Gabriella's name had been entered into a conversation.

"Mr. Winner! If you would condescend to rejoin us amidst the land of the living…?"

Oh Allah, he had zoned out? "Sorry, Professor. I was just… thinking."

How lame was that? And in front of Trowa too. So embarrassing.

His special friends brilliant green eye smiled at him though and set him at ease. He could feel the frustration coming from the Professor and reflexively tightened his shields accordingly; he was in enough trouble without allowing leakage to set him off balance. Pleading a student sensitivity and lack of control was not going to get him out of trouble, but only bury him deeper, given what he had been doing last night.

"I have no problem with Quatre monitoring me, Professor Jones, however, I trust there will also be a licensed Monitor as well?"

He was sure Trowa did not doubt him, but it was only proper form to check that there would be back up during the working session. Professor Jones had already jumped on Trowa for not following formal protocol, and neither he nor Trowa would be keen on the idea of being raked over the coals for forgetting to check on any changes to an established working team. It was one of the first lessons they had sat through on arriving at Tsuberov, and it was constantly mentioned throughout each term of their tenure here.

Every licensed psi individual was indoctrinated with the same set of rules.

Work safe practises were explicit and to be adhered to faithfully. For everyone's protection.

"Trowa and I are acquainted, Professor. We generally have no problems dealing with each other. If I am to monitor Trowa during a working session, then I will need to know exactly who will be monitoring me; and who will be backing me up on monitoring Trowa."

If he treated this like a professional incident, not a laboratory experiment, then maybe the Professor's sour mood might lighten up a little and he might cut them some slack.

Hopefully.

Karina Robertson 2012-03-25

000ooo000

Notes:

EEG: Electroencephalogram : A graphical record of electrical activity of the brain; produced by an electroencephalograph

Gabriella : Romany descent. Level 10 Sending / Receiving Telepath + Level 10 Receiving and Projecting Empath. Prime Rated. Training facility rumored to be Government Laboratories of the Prussian Republic deposed in the year AC 45. Age: Unknown [rumored to be approximately seventy four]. Oldest of the Prime Telepathic Empaths.

Adrian Carruthers: Level 8 Sending / Receiving Telepath Level 5 Receiving / Projecting Empath. Psychic Institute Luxembourg Division. [Age: 28 years, Blood link to Gabriella and Peacecraft lineage]

Trowa Barton: Clairaudient Level 6 Projected level [8], Unrecognised talent, Medium. Training facility, Tsuberov [age 19/20 years] Second year student

Quatre Rababer Winner: Psi student, 2nd year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Current Level 5 Telepath, projected Level 7, Current Level Receiving Empath 9.3, projected Level 10, Prime. Current Sending Empath Level 2, projected Level 4. Colony of Origin, L4 Cluster [18 years of age]

Professor Jones, Technical Training Officer, Tsuberov, 5th year tenure. Age 45years.


	44. Chapter 44

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 44/?

Author: Karina

Warnings: Extreme Alternate Universe setting. Aussie spelling, not much else in the early chapters though it will involve murder, stalking and possibly some colourful language down the track. Some Out Of Character depictions are unavoidable considering the alternate universe setting.

Rating: M [In Australia that would be mature adult 15+] Not sure with the new rating system. Rated for murder and violence as well as adult concepts.

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. That's about as plain as you could say it.

Many thanks to the wonderful ShenLong Deb for betaing this chapter for me.

000...000

The Agency: Meeting of Souls

Chapter 44

It was an undeniable fact of life that sometimes life changed with little, if any, warning. The more warning one had of coming changes, the more one could prepare oneself for the initial impact and the less said impact generally was. This time, with this change, there had been no warning, no opportunity, no chance of preparing for the effects of the event. It was no small change and it was a change that was monumental, twisting the shape of the remaining days of his life. He determined, in those all important minutes of decision making, that the proposed change would be for the better and thus he had taken that significant first step.

Suddenly, impossibly, the predestined path his feet had been set upon was torn, ripped apart... and he was overjoyed. Ecstatic.

When he had been assigned to meet the elderly lady in the old cafe district of New Port City, he had not an inkling of an idea that within twenty four hours that self same venerable old woman would change so much. How could he have entertained the notion that, because of her appearance in the city, because of who she was, the force of her personality, the fire in her heart... Because of HER he, and a few select others of the Cousins, had been given the opportunity to venture beyond Sanc's borders.

He and many of his Cousins had wanted to test the freedoms and limits of the outside world. It was a closely guarded dream to entertain notions of living beyond the strictures of his life in Sanc. A dream only, because neither his family nor the King would ever permit such a thing. His life, the Cousin's lives, were painstakingly crafted to fit the role designated for them at birth. His role, he admitted, in his case at least, he had enjoyed and was one he was well suited to, but there had still been a longing to escape the path designated and his feet had been set upon the instant he had been conceived a Peacecraft Cousin.

Escape from the careful planning of his life had not seemed possible, yet, suddenly, here he was, beyond Sanc's borders. Remarkably he stood here with the blessing of his family and the King, even if that blessing had been grudgingly given. He had miraculously escaped what he had been groomed to be since childhood.

He admitted, because to face this future beyond Sanc he had to be brutally honest with himself, that he had regrets about abandoning that life. He had enjoyed his position beneath the King and Queen's eye; a favoured retainer, but despite the prestige and perks of such a position there had been something lacking. For all of the privileges, for all of the chances they had given him to succeed with his life, something had not quite sat right with him. He did not feel that regret now.

There were some minor regrets, yes, he was only human and to be human meant there were always regrets. He would miss certain members of his family, and he had had friends back in Sanc whom he might never see again. But it was not as though he could not return to Sanc in the future. None of his regrets, on reflection, were great enough to hold him to Sanc when given the opportunity to leave.

Gabriella had freed him. He had been informed of the position he would hold should he measure up to expectations before he had turned five years of age. He had not fought it, one did not fight against the will of the Family and, more importantly, the will of the King. Being born a Cousin of the Blood one learned one's place as one grew from infancy to adult. Eyes were never NOT watching, and transgressions were pointed out on a daily basis until one learned what was acceptable behaviour. Standards, and they were high standards, were required to be met. The plan that had been agreed upon in his infancy must be understood and followed, and obedience and excellence was demanded.

It was simply the way one grew up when one was a Cousin to the Peacecraft monarchy.

He had, of course, known there was more to life. Out there, in the greater world. People who lived that life did not have lives that revolved around the expectations of family and sovereign. He had been curious about it, but he had learned early in his tutorial sessions beneath teachers appointed by his family, and personally approved by the Peacecraft Patriarch, not to pursue what would not compliment his future position and the prestige of the family.

Each stage of his life had been set out in a neatly ordered, stringently organised, and very well documented plan. He had been guided with a firm hand, not always the gentlest of firm hands either, to follow that blueprint. It was expected that he excel, and excel he had. Praise was given where praise was due and likewise criticism.

One learned when one was a Cousin. One could do little else but learn.

The one time he had gone beyond the borders of Sanc was for his Psi official certification. He had been accompanied for those few months by a hand picked escort, and he was within their sight every minute of every day. Despite the watchdogs dancing attendance, that time away from Sanc had been a glimpse of something so different to the world he knew, that his curiosity had been further ignited. He had been unable to hide it and his escort/chaperones had been quick to stifle any expressed desire to know more, which only sharpened his interest in the rest of the world. Within an hour's passing of the completion of his certification he had found himself on a plane returning to Sanc, to be congratulated and a work schedule placed in his hand. A schedule which had placed him beneath Pagan, and within clear sight of the eyes of the King and Queen.

They were hot house flowers, carefully reared, segregated from the rest of the world, intended to be known by a few and to never know the freedom of an unguarded wind.

He should have been honoured by the attention paid to him, and he had been honoured. Truthfully he had felt satisfaction at the praise and elevation of his status within the family, and he had performed to the best of his abilities, making a name for himself. His family had accepted the accolades of their peers for rearing one who was so useful and a benefit to the Court. He had been honoured... because it was expected of him and that was what he had been trained to do. To be.

How then had it all changed overnight?

The unexpected arrival of his so many times removed grandmother could surely be likened to a force of nature. She was a volcanic explosion that had torn a gaping hole in the mountain that was the Peacecraft monarchy and bled lava still, despite her departure. He had no idea what it was she had said or done, but the Queen's pique was more than noticeable and the King... Well, he was rather glad he would be spared working within the palace hierarchy whilst the storm still raged.

She had shaken even the indomitable Pagan, and for him, personally, it had been like the sudden coming of the first breath of fresh autumn air after the hottest, most stifling of summer days. She was relentless, forceful, but she had used none of that power of personality she contained to influence his decision, or the decisions of his cousins.

He doubted Sanc would recover from her whirlwind visit for months, if not years. It was probably just as well she did not visit on a regular basis, given the tempests that seem to rage unfettered when she favoured the family with her presence.

In the brief time he had spoken to her, both when he had escorted her to the palace the day before and in the early hours of the morning when she had made her offer, he had come to respect her. Not as a Prime talent, but as a person with the ability to see beyond surface layers to the depths beneath, and for having the fortitude to fight for what she considered to be 'right'. She was a dynamo, one of the rarest of special people with the capacity to shake the world around them with each breath they breathed.

In less than a day she had arrived, upset the King and Queen, fronted a number of the highest ranking of the noble, political and merchant families, and charmed a group of the best and brightest of the young bloods. Of which he was one. He was not the only one of the Cousins called to an interview with her, to be only too happy to be charmed by her and to listen to her proposal.

And to jump feet first at the chance she offered.

He knew, though nothing had been said in his hearing, that she would not leave his younger Cousins to the fate designated for them by their families without manipulating strings to offer them something more in the future. Like him, like the others with him, they too would be offered an escape from the destiny expected of the Cousins of the Blood.

Gabriella was a master manipulator. He could never hope, even in his wildest fantasies, to have half of the skills she displayed when handling people in prominent positions. If she would allow him to work with her personally, as he hoped to convince her to permit, he hoped to learn as much from her as he could.

He was no Prime level talent, he was nothing special at all in the grand scheme of things, but he felt alive when in her presence. Her energy seemed endless, those dark eyes spat fire, but those same eyes could mellow into something gentle that he knew few people were ever fortunate enough to witness. He felt supremely honoured to have been one of those favoured few to have witnessed the gentler side of the indomitable Gabriella.

No one had ever made such an instant impression on him before her.

She had matters, important affairs, that she was required to attend to. Duties that, from what he had discovered before they departed Sanc, involved a serious crime. Murder, the whispers had suggested, and the involvement of another Prime Talent in her specialist field. She was, perhaps, the Premier Psychic of their society, a busy and important person who perpetually would have a tight schedule, but she travelled with them to the hotel she had designated they would temporarily reside in. They had been assured it was psi shielded, for their comfort, and she had, somehow, managed to have a series of suites flanking her own suite designated for their use.

He was learning quickly that whatever needs Gabriella had were met with alacrity.

No one argued with her that he knew of, and actually expected to win the argument. If she wished to claim the entire top floor of the world's most expensive hotel with no warning, then undoubtedly provision would cheerfully...or perhaps fearfully?... be made for her desire. Not that this was the world's most expensive and exclusive hotel, but it was certainly high on the elite scale. How long they would be resident here he did not know, but no one could claim they would lack for comfort.

He could not quite stop himself from hovering protectively near her. She was tiny! Her diminutive size woke every protective instinct in him; they were trained to protect kith and kin. He could not NOT feel the need to hover protectively. Not only was she kin, she was his grandmother, if a few generations removed and his training was all about protecting those weaker than oneself.

Not that you could call this particular grandmother 'weak'.

Physically she was short in stature, but her advanced age had not at all bent her spine into a stoop. She stood tall, erect, proud, even though her 'tall' barely reached mid chest on him. But it was not her physical size that made an impression on people. The force of her personality gave her inches in presence, making it a surprise when you stood close to her and realised just how small she was.

How she had lived to the age she was... and no one seemed quite to know exactly how old that was, but she was well past her centenary and then some. At a rough calculation, and he admitted there would be errors because he knew little of her younger years, he estimated her to be somewhere around one hundred and thirty... ish. With particular and possibly grand emphasis on the 'ish'. He suspected that some complex and extremely expensive genetic treatments kept her in the game, because she had to be the oldest person on the planet by now who was not in a near vegetative state.

Despite her venerable years there was nothing frail or fragile about her, either physically or mentally. She was a force of nature, a force mere humans could never contest against once she determined she needed to interfere.

It was a good feeling, comforting, to know that she noticed you. It was comforting when those dark eyes looked at you and you could 'feel' it, the protection of being within her awareness.

Gabriella herself had personally escorted them to the suites assigned to them, and he was pleased his designated rooms were adjacent to her own. He was fascinated by her; by her somewhat quirky charm, by the contrasts of temperament that made her Gabriella. It was a life changing event that she had noticed him and called for him to follow her. He was quite certain he would follow her wherever she might lead, and that he would smile every step of the way, regardless of how rocky that way might prove to be. He had no doubt she would be there, watching him, protecting him, just as he wished to watch protectively over her.

It was frightening when he thought about it. He had never taken to anyone quite as he had taken to Gabriella, and never had he warmed up to anyone so quickly.

"Grandmother?"

He followed her to the door of his suite, he being the last to be placed and settled, and after looking around at the luxury that frankly exceeded his family's manor house, he found himself unwilling to let her go. There was an itch deep within that drove him to want more of her company. It was not that he wanted to continue to be noticed by her, but more that he desired to be given a purpose by her.

"What is it you are needing Gabriella for?" The woman paused in the open door, head tilted slightly to one side, dark eyes seeming to know what it was he wanted, why he wanted it, before he even opened his mouth.

"You will require an Aide, won't you?" He dare not be hesitant when speaking with her; plain and straightforward speaking was best with Gabriella. "I know you have high level work ahead of you, and I do not mean to interfere or distract you, but you... You should have an attendant and I have seen no one who is an obvious Monitor in your company."

There, he had opened the door and what came through it remained to be seen. He had made an allusion to the rules she herself had helped to instigate into law governing the work of high level Psi's. He was probably displaying a frightening level of cheek, but he knew deep within him that this woman preferred the straight forward, no dancing around approach. Gabriella did not strike him as one who bandied niceties when plain speaking could produce much more straightforward and immediate results.

A dark eyebrow peppered with grey arched high. "Offering are you?"

No outright refusal, that was a start. "If you would have me. I have been trained to monitor and I am certified."

She would know his skills, his certifications, strengths and weaknesses. This was Gabriella who left nothing to chance he was dealing with. She would know the file on every one of the grandchildren she had taken out of Sanc. If she permitted him to be, he would be there for her in all things.

"Gabriella is wondering what else it is being trained for you have been. Tired you are not?"

Those dark eyes bored deep into him, judging, evaluating. He would not weaken in the face of her scrutiny, and to be honest he was not actually tired. He was too alive, too keyed up with the knowledge that he was beyond the borders of Sanc and unattended by his family's chaperones. It made him restless. Made him want to fidget.

His mother complained of his fidgeting and his father... Well, his father was the source from which he had inherited the habit from.

"No, Ma'am, I am not tired. To be honest I am hyped up and I need a distraction. Something to settle me down and give me a focus."

It might have been a mistake to be that honest, but he would not lie. Not to this woman. She was someone who would be very important to him, he knew it deep in his bones, and he had to be honest with her. He had been blessed with her attention, now he would work to gain her trust.

"What of Kindred Cousins, coming here with you did? Leaving them a bother it would be, yes?"

He almost, almost, snorted at that. He knew what his family, their families, and the King would have told her, attempting to dissuade her from taking them away from Sanc. The Cousins needed the proximity of Cousins, they would have said, spouting it like a mantra. It had been stressed to him, to them all, from infancy that they needed each other. That they belonged together, living and working as a unit, and that they were less capable of performing adequately as a solitary entity.

Basically their training from birth was designed to make them physically dependent on the proximity of their shared blood lines. They had been conditioned to need the constant presence of others in their families to flourish.

"If you will forgive my plain speaking, Grandmother, but that crock of bull about us needing other Cousins in close proximity is just that, a crock full of bull shit. Despite their best efforts to make us dependant on each other, we are quite capable of functioning away from other key Cousins. It is more a stressed education program reinforced with psi conditioning than any real physical or psychological tie. It is just a means they use to keep us watching each other, to ensure that we are aware of our place in the hierarchy."

He was gratified with the smile his honesty earned him. "And glad Gabriella is to be knowing understanding their means of control you are. Conditioning from infancy, this Gabriella was concerned about. Talk we must about this conditioning, so break the ties for all without distress we can do. Knowing you who it might be who came with Gabriella, might be affected to distress by this control?"

She believed him. He had half been afraid that she would not, but he had hoped she would. What she thought about how they were reared he dared not think, but he suspected she would have a few things to say in the future about the tradition of using Psi influence to control them. But it was something that had been happening in Sanc for centuries, long before anyone understood just what 'psychic potential' in all of its various forms, actually meant.

For him the conditioning would not be a problem, he was sure, as he had found that quite a lot of those key cousins annoyed him to no end, upped by their own 'purity' of bloodline. They were trained to be pains in the neck as far as he could see, and they were more of a slave to the conditioning that the 'lesser' Cousins, of which he, admittedly, was not. He had stronger blood ties to the Royal Family than a lot of the Cousins who claimed a higher position in the Court than he.

"Perhaps the youngest of us might be affected to some degree, though I doubt it will bother her for long. We will be there for her, if and when she needs us. We can live with it, the close proximity of others of the bloodline, but we are quite capable of living without them, particularly as we grow older and leave the education system. It certainly does not affect how we perform in our trained duties."

"Pleased Gabriella is to hear this. Much talking will we be doing, when Gabriella settles matters of a most disagreeable and distressing nature. Expected to remain within these suites you are not. Designating chaperones Gabriella will be, to act as guides to grandchildren about the hotel and city. Sight see, shop, these things are good for young people cooped up too long to do, and chaperones will have credit chips for everyone, soon as Gabriella makes arrangements. Busy Gabriella will be, this is unfortunate but true, but expecting everyone for evening meal together Gabriella is. Take time to realise free from Sanc you be. Take time to think on where you go, what it is to be doing you are wishing. Much talking we will do. Much talking."

Ah. Well, he was not surprised. Disappointed, yes, but not surprised. Accompanying her was not to be. He had hoped to spend more time with her, to actually work with, for, her but he could understand that she had her serious and grave duties to perform. He had hoped to be of help in the performance of those duties, but he would never dream of delaying her, or interfering. She was the incomparable Gabriella and she did not need him to dance attendance on her, though he honestly wished she would permit it.

He supposed they were expected to rest a little after the early hour their day started, and then set out to explore the hotel and venture into the city. Find amusements, sight see, perhaps do some shopping. Chaperones. Bodyguard, a small voice whispered, but that would not be so bad in a new city. At least they would not get lost, and who knew what kind of perverts inhabited a city the size of this? He had never really learned how to shop, so a bit of company from a more knowledgeable body might be just the thing. He would have to learn to do more than simply shop for himself now that he was beyond Sanc.

Every material need had been met as they had grown. Their only concern was with preparing themselves to serve the Crown and the advancement of their respective family. Their whole lives had been geared to prepare to serve others, and it just seemed 'off' to have time weighing on his hands.

"Gabriella must take time to understand needs and desires. Need to understand, Gabriella does, your needs and ambitions. Expecting all to excel, Gabriella is, away from where family expectation directs children. Expectation of excellence Gabriella has, for each of you, but Sanc Gabriella is not. No binding chains, no direct missive demanding obligation and obedience. This matter discussing we will be. Long talks having we will, where going we will be in future."

"We are extremely grateful for the opportunity you have given us. It is... quite liberating... to be free of Sanc. We were never unhappy there, understand that, but we... It was... "

He was not quite sure exactly what it was he was trying to say, but the old lady before him beamed a smile that suddenly made him understand that she understood. What it was he was trying to say, what was so clear to him though he could not put it into words, she actually understood without him having to find the words that just would not clearly explain the concept.

She was a legend in the family and to Psi's everywhere.

She had come for them, taken them away from a destiny set by their families, and she could teach them so much. About life. About their psychic ability. About living. Why were they so comfortable with her? He, and he knew his cousins too, had never met her before this surprise visit to Sanc, but they had warmed up to her instantly and they had known what they wanted to do.

Go with her. It seemed to him that his blood had screamed those three words when he had been called to an audience with the King during the small hours of the morning. Go with her.

"Wanting you to meet someone Gabriella is. Expecting eyebrows to fly off head when meet him you do, and asking Gabriella is that you not visibly react. Gabriella is asking for no questions, explaining at later time will be. This can you do?"

His eyes widened a little at the look in her dark eyes, at the suggestion that he might be trusted with something that was sensitive by her so soon. Words failed him, but he was accustomed to strange requests from people in power. He knew when to nod decisively and keep his mouth shut, unless specific answers were required. A great deal of his work at the palace for Pagan had required he watch, listen and keep silent.

"Good. Gabriella's Aide, for now this you will be. If Gabriella does not enjoy cup of coffee soon, then cranky old woman Gabriella will be. Learn you will how Gabriella likes her coffee... And learn to make it you will too." The door swung open behind her and she half turned toward it before looking back at him. "Well? Coming are you?"

000...000...000

The shade caused a chill to run the course of her spine as she strode across the road. From bright, sunny and warm to a shaded drop in temperature that could, if she lingered in the shadow, chill her to the bone with its unseasonable embrace.

Unseasonable? Wait, shadow?

Blinking Noin stopped on the edge of the curb, fighting the growing irritation with the irascible weather. She had been enjoying the warmth of the summer day and stepping into the shade of the building had come as a nasty shock...

She had the sun behind her, so how could she be standing in shade?

Closing her eyes Noin dipped her head and breathed deeply, steadying herself, letting the air out slowly, inhaling in a measured pace, exhaling... Clearing her perceptions was second nature to an elite psychic and forewarned was forearmed. There was something wrong.

She could feel it, though not see it. When she opened her eyes and really looked around her, the day was as bright and sunny as she had expected it to be, but allowing her psychic filter to enfold her revealed another scene entirely. A spreading darkness, shadow like, almost a mist hanging in the air. Reaching out lazy tendrils to her.

Stifling a startled breath she took a measured half step back, taking note of the phenomena as she paced slowly backwards. Two steps. Three. Four... And she was clear of the lightest, most insubstantial wisps of the mist, her toes mere inches from the miasma oozing from... somewhere... ahead of her.

Dark smoke, she might have called it. Drifting lazily, as though no wind stirred it, riding the most minute eddies of air. She knew it would be almost unmoving, even should a gale be blowing. It was non physical, invisible to the unassisted human eye. Focusing her psychic talent to 'see' what her eyes alone could not detect, despite every inch of her physical body reacting to it.

Her instinct had been... not so much fear. Not initially, at least, but definitely inclining towards it. Wary, alert... Aware. Yes, aware. As soon as she had crossed into its field of influence her unique sensitivity had warned her, instinctively triggering the beginnings of the 'fight or flight' survival reflex.

There was nothing visibly 'there' to the physical human eye, but to her mental eye, as she watched, alerted to its presence now, she could 'see' it's tendrils, wisps of 'smoke' like mist. Darkening. Thickening being fed from wisps further away from her with agonising slowness.

It was an ominous sight. It was... nothing living even as it thickened, growing stronger the longer she stood watching it. Gray smoky tendrils reaching out from a darker gray band giving way to a dark, thickening mist of...

"Ah. No. No, not good."

A certain level of empathy was required to contact the spirits of those who had shed the mortal world. It was a different kind of empathy to the empathy required to contact and interact with living human emotion. Similar, kin to the other, but subtly different. A high level, Prime level, empath walking into this... Oh yes, she could understand why a Prime T/E Talent went down if he walked into this... But he had been at the crime scene, standing in the alley she had not even reached yet from the report she had read.

She was standing on the edge of the road, still a good ten metres down the street away from the cordoned off entrance to the alleyway.

"Prime Noin? Is there a problem?"

Her driver, whom she had left on the other side of the street in the parking bay, was crossing the road now, almost at a run, dodging traffic. Glancing at her Noin noted that her eyes were narrowed, the woman's attention focused on her. Her escort was an empath, a low level talent registering at a little over two on the scale, and she slowed as she neared Noin, the traffic falling away to allow her to walk the rest of the way.

She would be tightly shielded having been warned that a higher level empath had had a bad experience in the area, but even so Noin noticed the uneasy glances she began to cast around. Her eyes drifted around the immediate area, looking warily about her. Her fingers began to twitch as she stepped off the curb and took a stride past Noin before the Medium could stop her.

There it was, the exact same thing that had accosted Noin. That abrupt stop, the shiver as she looked around with narrowed eyes, her face turning up toward the sun. She began to rub her bare arms lightly and Noin could see goosebumps forming on her flesh. Her eyes cast quick looks about her, never stilling, and she seemed to lift slightly, pushing her balance more onto the balls of her feet; as though she was ready to run at a moment's notice. Survival instinct. Flight or fight reflex initiating.

Her eyes shifted about their surroundings but repeatedly came to rest on the dark mouth of the alley ahead of them. The crime scene. It was no surprise to Noin when the woman stepped back, away from the alley, a quick step to perch her on the edge of the curb, another to put her beside Noin, close to the Prime. A breach of protocol for a high level psychic, but Noin could understand the herd instinct to crowd together when faced with danger. Then that look around her as though she had realised a weight had lifted from her. She was clear of the tendrils.

"I... What?"

"It's alright. We... have a problem."

An understatement on her part, Noin reflected, but it was an honest answer. They did have a problem. Potentially a large problem. Her escorts reaction proved that it was not just Noin who could feel the miasma of dark emotion oozing from the alley, and that it was not Noin's imagination fed by tales of murder inciting visions of the dead.

And that disagreeable emotional soup was spreading. Slowly to be certain, but relentlessly. It had birthed in the alley and, overnight and through little more than half a day, it had filled the alley and escaped it. Taking her companion's arm, another breach of protocol given the woman was an empath and Noin's own talents, she led the way back across the road. Dodging traffic, she was thankful that this was a quiet, out of the way part of the city, and the traffic was light enough to allow them to cross in reasonable safety. Back at the car she leaned against the bonnet of the vehicle and stared long and hard at the scene.

There were other people on the street, walking, talking, laughing, squabbling... generally minding their own business. Taking her time, studying each individual, she tracked a few as they approached the affected area. Marking their physical reactions from first noticing them to when they entered the affected area in the vicinity of the alley.

Some few pedestrians came from within the buildings flanking the alley and Noin was quick to note that a large proportion of those individuals looked anything but happy. Not uncommon in this run-down district, but largely the proportions seemed wrong to her.

Of those who came from beyond the affected area there was a visibly broader emotional range in evidence. They were more animated, faces showing lighter degrees of emotion and their aura's were 'lighter', reflecting more positive moods. Those pedestrians who entered the miasma and walked through the area, skirting the taped off entrance to the alley and continued on fell conspicuously quiet. Within two steps into the miasma the changes began and Noin pursed her lips, considering.

Ten metres in less than twenty four hours. In that time it had gathered, grown, expanded and was strong enough to affect those who walked through. None of them lingered, all of them moving quickly though none of them ran. And whilst their moods lifted after exiting the affected area she noted none of them quite had the same state of mood as when they had entered the area. They lifted emotionally, yes, but there was a lingering effect.

It was a psychic phenomena and physical obstructions were not proof against psychic emanations. Those who lived within the affected area would be experiencing constant negativity.

Of course it might be explained that the people of the area were reacting to the two uniformed police agents standing at the entrance to the taped off alley. Might be, but Noin did not think so, not after entering the zone herself. It was not the presence of the law that was affecting people, particularly those resident in the adjacent area.

As she watched she noted little wisps of the miasma break off and seemed to disappear and that was another concern. Such negativity never simply dissipated. It was enough to pollute the very air that was breathed and these people had been breathing it for hours. The whole area, what she could see of it - and now that she took the time to really study the people here, did they look subdued?

Was it her imagination, fired by what she could see and they could not, making her think the area was too quiet? Was she misinterpreting odd little looks as anxious glances cast about them? Were people surreptitiously looking for something they could not see or name, only feel? You did not require a levelled empathic rating to feel what was oozing out of that alley. All you had to do was be alive and human...

Ah, perhaps not with the human. There was a notable lack of animals in the area. No birds squabbling over scraps, no stray cats or dogs. She watched a woman with a dog the size of a toy poodle, a poor ragged looking animal. The dog refused to walk, hanging back, pulling against the rope tied to it, whining, cringing, wriggling its backside as far away from the alley as the lead allowed. As she watched the woman grumbled, picked up the dog and marched through the area, ignoring the dogs cringing and whining.

"Damn."

Whatever had happened in the alley, and whilst she knew it was murder she did not know the exact details; no one did! Whatever the source of the trauma that had given birth to this emotional poison was, it would have to be exorcised. The psychic ether had to be cleansed or else the poison would grow to further pollute the general atmosphere and ordinary people... how she hated that description!... would feel its effects.

Those unfortunates who lived in the affected area would experience their attitude souring. They would be prone to sudden depressions, unexplained and sudden instances of rage and hopelessness. As the miasma spread and grew in strength, those within the affected area would become very different people to their normal selves. This poison needed to be cleansed before the city experienced a rash of petty crime that would grow exponentially in seriousness and frequency. Instances of self inflicted violence would increase to include bouts of public violence involving more and more people. A verbal spat would grow into a brawl between two individuals and spark a riot that might involve a quarter of the citizens of the city. As the dark emotions of the citizens grew it would feed depression and grow with each new round of violence, and those volatile emotions would feed back into the core root of the trouble.

It would become a self feeding, ever expanding cycle of destruction. Emotional at first and then physical.

Une had explained the theory that they were hunting a potential super psychic who was losing control of his abilities, and after experiencing this... Noin was very much afraid that, whoever the high talent psi might be, that he was already a lost cause. Did people honestly have no sense? Chemical induced psychic abilities? Such talents were likely to be wildly erratic in nature, and the individual would be a powder keg waiting to explode. The smallest spark might ignite a firestorm they could well do without.

In fact, the spark might already have been lit and the firestorm might well be smouldering before her now.

Was this individual under the regular monitoring of a specific, and knowledgeable, psi technician? She could hope so, but no, she could not believe such was the case. It would be a dirty, underhanded underground operation. Underground illegal use of drugs, uncontrolled, unmonitored. A disaster waiting to happen, and it looked like they were going to have to do the clean up of what was surely not going to be the last messy incident based in these illegal drugs.

She supposed that she, more than anyone else, was familiar with the work of the illegal drugs pushers and, worse, the chemical factories using street kids and criminal organisations to test their latest chemical cocktails. She had encountered more than a few shades in recent times whose deaths had been the result of chemical experimentation gone wrong.

Hers was rarely a pretty job, this speaking with the dead as practised by Noin and the few others with like talent and hard as nails guts. She had chosen to specialise in dealing with traumatic death, generally murders, and some days she wondered why she had taken this road. It was predominately a thankless task. The investigators of the crime did not like 'tea leaf readers' interfering with their investigation. The dead rarely ever said thank you, quite often they cursed you, and the living... Well, the living were less likely to thank you, and if they did it would be months after the case was settled. Daily dealing with the aftermath of traumatic death was not where she had envisioned herself being in her childhood, but it was what she did now. And she was good at dealing with it.

Trauma placed people in conditions that were far less than their best, and people who were traumatised were rarely kind...to themselves or to strangers who desired only to help. The violently dead were too often lost, not understanding what had occurred to them. They did not deal well with no one seeing them, or speaking to them.

It was nice, if a blatant shock to the system, when someone, alive or dead, actually thanked her for her assistance after a case. Not common, but nice.

One needed a thick skin to go with a cast iron gut to stand where she stood.

This murder victim, a young man who had died in a horrendous manner in the alley across the road, was going to be one of the worst sessions she had ever been required to deal with. She could feel it from this distance and, though slowly, it was growing stronger to her sensitive talent; riding on the wave of that unknown killer's out of control ability. The victim's trauma, his left over emotions, were being amplified, generated over and over again in a never ending cycle.

The killer had to be a broadcasting empath, and a ridiculously strong one. The man was a killer, whether he intended to kill initially or not. Facts were facts, no matter how you looked at them, and when you dealt with the untimely dead they were generally not interested in holding your hand or you comforting them. They did not generally weep at the unfairness of it all on your shoulder. They could be angry, defensive, emotionally volatile. An angry shade was not so discriminating about where, or against whom, it lashed out.

Not to say that the dead were psychopathic killers themselves. Far from it. They were traumatised victims and just like traumatised living individuals they needed a psychiatrist. Not that she considered herself a shrink, but that basically was what her job description entailed.

The rarest cases dealt with extremely emotional individuals who affected the physical area around them. Aware of it as she was now, she did not need to be so close to detect the aura. Sampling the emanations was best done with minute instances of exposure. She did not need to be 'hands on', though sometimes it helped with connecting with the dead to clarify detail. Now though touch was not required, just minute psychic touches to sample the atmosphere; to try to determine exactly what the makeup of it was.

Samples of this, for want of a better word, miasma, would help them determine the effects on the citizens affected by it, but how best they might deal with it. Sampling it was necessary, determining what it exactly consisted of... Individuals would manifest some, perhaps a few would manifest all, of the emotions that made up its total content. As time went on it would gain more emotions fed by other contributors.

Anger. Such all encompassing anger. Despair. Desire. Ah, there was blatant sexual predation in the mix. Lust, unbridled. They would need to get this contained as quickly as possible. Pain. Such incredible layers of pain! Fear. Swirling, oozing, all encompassing. Fear culminating in blatant terror. Loneliness. Misunderstanding. Segregation... Always the odd man out. Hate-fear-pain-resentment-pain-fear-need to run. Need to be understood, to be wanted, to be loved...

Not just the victim's emotions existed within that miasma. There were more than a few contributions from the killer. An individual had a distinct psychic flavour, unique to that one person only, and she could tap two distinct individuals. She might, in the exorcising of this disaster waiting to happen, be able to work a profile out of the killer if she could successfully determine which degree of emotion could be attributed to the victim and respectively to his killer. Such a lot of the emotions were experienced by both individuals.

It was a mess.

She was doubtful that one single session would be sufficient to contain and then peacefully settle the dead. There was no doubt in her mind that the shade of the victim still occupied that alley. He existed there, locked in a cycle of reliving what she suspected had been an unhappy life compounded by being the victim of a particularly brutal murder. His life would not have been a shining example to others, and the city authorities would want the matter dealt with expediently; they would not be interested in settling the shade, simply in eradicating the miasma.

But she intended to comfort this victim, to settle him and have him find peace. No one deserved to die as he had.

It would be no quick fix, no simple walk in, have a chat to the dead and walk out, having convinced the shade to go forward. In a rural setting this pollution of the psychic ether that grew exponentially, would affect less people. It would be contained easier because of the lower population. If they delayed in getting a task force together then, by her estimation, within a week's passing it would have a strong foothold in this quarter of the city. And she might never be able to deal with the shade at the core of it.

It would grow stronger hourly, the population would become infected by it, becoming infused with depression and unreasoning anger fed by the miasma. Depression would quickly become anger, anger would become violence, fed by sexual undertones. There would be domestic violence on an increasing scale, instances of rape, child abuse, self inflicted harm. The crime rate would rise and become increasingly more violent. Violent crimes would culminate in more and more violent murders.

And there would be rioting in the streets.

It would be an ever increasing cycle of mayhem, spreading with increasing speed and, unchecked, it would overtake the city. She could not allow it. All she had to do was convince the appropriate authorities that the equation was simple, straight forward and undeniable.

Oh yes. So easy. As easy as snapping her fingers. She was quite good at being sarcastic when she did not have to deal with authority figures.

Turning to her escort who stood behind her and whose eyes were still focused on the alley and the two law enforcement officers who appeared to be having a less than congenial argument, thankfully verbal only, she drew the woman closer to the car.

"I need you to contact Une. We have a problem and it has to be dealt with before it can no longer be contained."

Dark blue eyes flickered from the alley to her and back again. "I can feel it. I couldn't before when we stood here, but I can now."

"Yes, I am sure you can, and unfortunately so can everyone around us with any degree of empathy who has the misfortune to walk into it. And it will only get worse."

The young woman shuddered, and Noin knew she was pushing everything she had been taught into strengthening her mental barriers. "I will place the call."

She waited, her eyes on the alley whilst she continued to sample the miasma. It was increasing, not in a rising all consuming tidal wave, thankfully, but in a creeping, steady seepage. She doubted anyone would be able to make it all the way to the actual crime scene, to where the young man had been killed. It would be so thick there it would be next to impossible to breathe.

If it had been riding a rising wave then there would be little she could do to control the flow, but this was a seepage and as such it gave her possibilities. If they moved quickly enough, and with the assistance of the Psychic community, then they might be able to protect the bulk of the city until she could manage the task of releasing the victim.

If they moved quickly enough and if bureaucracy... Well, bureaucrats were never renowned for moving quickly.

"Ma'am. Commander Une is on the line."

Une was not an easy woman to deal with at the best of times, and the woman was under a great deal of pressure at this point in time, but there was no help for it. Taking a deep breath Noin walked around the car, taking a seat within it and closed the door, winding up the window. It was an ineffective symbol of protection, of closing out the miasma which was not at all a physical force. It defied physical barriers, but the symbology was enough for now. Taking the head set from the agent Noin settled back in her seat and was thankful she was not standing before the woman.

Une would not be happy about her recommendation.

"Noin? What the hell is going on? I didn't expect to hear from you for a few hours. What is so urgent?"

"We have a problem." Where to begin? How to start? How to stress the implications without sounding... Well... Weird? God, they were professionals and she was worrying about sounding like a child frightened by a nightmare!

"Where are you?"

"I'm at the car parked across from the alley where your murder took place. We have a... a site contamination in effect."

There was a brief pause in which she could almost hear the woman's thoughts grinding over her choice of words. Site contamination was the most appropriate term she could think of, given the circumstances.

"What do you mean, a site contamination? The police assured me they have the alley sealed off."

Une did not sound happy, no surprise there, but she had not understood. No surprise there either. "They do. Yellow, black and white striped tape with two officer's standing duty. Two 'unhappy' officers." She placed emphasis on the 'unhappy'.

Une snorted. "Sucks to love your job, right? I can sympathise. So? I should be concerned two cops are sniping at each other, why?"

Noin winced. She was rather thankful she did not work full time under Anne Une. The woman could be a royal bitch when she wanted to be, she had known that before she had accepted the job. The woman had a reputation for not suffering fools easily.

"What I mean is that the 'scene of the murder' is 'contaminating' the surrounding area." Placing her emphasis carefully she hoped to get through to the woman that this was more than tired, irritable officers.

A longer pause this time, and she could almost see the woman rising from her seat and moving to the huge picture window overlooking the city. It was a nice view from that window, offering a panorama of the cityscape. Une looked out of it quite a lot.

"What do you mean by that exactly?" The hushed tone of the question gratified her, the woman was beginning to realise they had a problem.

"I mean what I said. The psychic ether in the surrounding area from the scene of the murder has mutated. It is growing, evolving, due to the lingering presence of a very unhappy, angry, lost soul; who I think is reliving every bad thing that ever happened to him, culminating in his murder, on an ever repeating loop. I'm not sure he even really realises what happened to him. Every culmination of the playing loop begins another cycle, pushing all that bad mojo out into the ether to accumulate and spread wider as it grows. Before I can go in there and deal with him, which it will not be possible to do in one single session, I assure you, we will have to deal with the leakage."

A tired sigh and Noin thought she could detect a hesitation in there. It took a couple of minutes before Une responded to her verbally, a couple of minutes in which she was sure the woman cursed her and the situation fluently.

"Noin, you are not making my day any easier. The victim is throwing a temper tantrum and you want me to... What? How bad is it?"

So much for Une having empathy for a victim of a violent crime.

"He's not throwing a temper tantrum, far from it. It's a negative energy feedback... Or rather, a negative empathic feedback would be a more appropriate description. It's growing, generating from itself, feeding from itself. People who pass by the area are being affected, in a localised area at the moment, thankfully. We need to keep it that way, which won't be easy I will admit. It will involve the cooperation of a large number of people, specifically empaths and telepaths. I suggest a perimeter be set up and the area within the perimeter needs to be evacuated of all non-essential personnel. The residents in the area, every bum in every alley and gutter, every hooker under every street lamp, every squatter needs to be rounded up and moved out with the actual registered residents of the area. They all have to be evacuated so that we can work safely."

"God, woman! Are you sane? As if this day was not bad enough..." she sighed heavily, "How big an area are you talking about?'

Noin considered what she knew of the area from her briefing, glancing around her, noting the high rise density of the low cost district and winced. "I'm not exactly familiar with the area, but I'd say it would be best to evacuate a good two, maybe three block radius from ground zero."

The noise that came over the radio was somewhere between a breath of exasperation, anger and a somehow squeezed in inarticulate curse. It expressed exactly what the lady on the other end of the connection thought.

"You... Noin, I don't know what you think our resources are here, but I am ninety nine point nine percent positive that we don't have that many registered telepaths and empaths in the city! It's a big area, Noin. Are you sure it is necessary?"

Well, at least her suggestion had not been tossed out immediately. That was progress. She was, when all was said and done, a Prime talent after all. One was supposed to listen when a Prime passed an opinion in a professional capacity. There would be city managers pulled in on this who would wonder if the Prime who suggested it was enjoying passing wind for the sake of hearing herself talk.

"The miasma I am sensing is no longer contained to the alley. It is a good ten metres from the alley entrance and whist it is thankfully not moving quickly, it is still spreading. And given that it is less than twenty four hours since the murder took place, a good deal less I might add, that is suggestive enough of its rate of growth. It will continue to expand, and it will grow stronger as long as the source is not exorcised. The longer we leave this the worse it will get. It will be harder to get the victim to cooperate with me and just wait until the negativity from infected people cycles back into the source. If its left too long you will need to call in another Medium of Prime level, perhaps another two, and have us work in unison. And for god's sake, don't allow any empath above level two within one hundred metres of this location. That exclusion area will expand as the miasma expands."

The silence was, this time, long and oozed disbelief. She could not blame Une, not after that bombshell.

"You want an empathic barricade set up to cover up to a three block radius with empaths who grade lower than level three?!"

Impossible, she knew, but somehow they were going to have to do it. There simply were not many options to deal with a situation like this.

"I'm sorry, Une, it's not my preferred option, you know. Unless you want psychiatric wards overflowing with empaths on murderous rampages, you will make sure we get every empath of notable strength, or with a low shield capability, in the area to a safe distance. A psychic barricade has to be set up to contain this field, and a unit consisting of telepaths and empaths will be required to do that. If its allowed to flow unchecked it will eventually have this city in lockdown. Violent crimes, self inflicted harm, murder, rape... Rioting in the streets... You name it, it will begin as this contamination spreads. I'm not an alarmist, Une, but I am afraid. I'm very afraid of what is growing in that alley. You will have to find this killer before he kills again, because if he causes this reaction in all of his victims, then you'll have to watch the death toll and psychiatric commitment tally rise."

"The sheer logistics of what you are asking... I don't know that I have the necessary pull to get it done."

The woman sounded subdued, uncertain. Very different to the Anne Une Noin had been acquainted with, but then she supposed she could not blame the woman. The more she thought about the logistics of her request, the more impossible the reality of organising it seemed to her. But there was no other way she could see to deal with the situation. To protect the citizens they had to seal off this area as soon as possible.

"I'll make some calls, see how many people in command positions I can get to believe me. To at least front for a meeting. You will need to have as much evidence for me as possible."

"For all our sakes, you had better be very convincing and get them to listen. If I go in there and contact the shade, it will likely agitate him. If he gets agitated it will only spread the dissolution he is shedding faster. For now I will have to hold off contacting him, until we have preventative measures in place."

"Alright. Get back here as fast as you can. I think I will need your testimony to convince people I'm not sniffing hallucinogens."

"And Une, could you please request the officers standing guard on the crime scene be changed every two hours? These men here now need relief sooner rather than later."

"I'll speak to someone about it."

"Before they progress to blows, please. They have been here for quite a while I think, and you can use them as evidence if you need physical examples of the reactions you can expect from exposure to this miasma. The installation of remote detection devices might be an idea too. I know there will be some pollution from latent ability with people passing through the area, but it might be enough to help convince someone in authority that I am not smoking illegal substances."

"Understood."

t.b.c.

Karina Robertson 2012


	45. Chapter 45

Title: The Agency: Meeting of Souls 45/?

Author: Karina

Pairings 13x6 [eventual], 5xS [established], 3x4, Others undecided at this time.

Warnings: Extreme Alternate Universe setting. Aussie spelling, not much else in the early chapters though it will involve murder, stalking and possibly some colourful language down the track. Some Out Of Character depictions are unavoidable considering the alternate universe setting.

Rating: M [In Australia that would be mature adult 15+] Not sure with the new rating system. Rated for murder and violence as well as adult concepts.

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. That's about as plain as you could say it.

Many thanks to the wonderful ShenLong Deb for betaing this chapter for me.

/…/ Thoughts

~/.../~ Telepathy

Agency: Meeting of Souls

Chapter 45

Une stiffened her back, half turning to face her secretary.

"Prime Gabriella has returned to the city?"

Molly Davies inclined her head in the affirmative, edging a step closer to the door at the tone of her employer's voice. In the last thirty minutes or so Une's temper, always uncertain even at the best of times, had taken a volatile turn. The woman was a terror to work for; the other personal secretaries for the executives of the office building expressed their sympathy to her each and every day. But the pay was good, it came with a hazard clause and despite Une's constant mood swings, Molly actually liked her job. It was not the worst employment Molly had had over the years, but some days were more trying on her nerves than others and the last few days...

Well, she only hoped the situation would improve.

Sooner rather than later.

Generally Une, whilst being a bit snappish, was a fair woman to work for. It was hardly Molly's fault if the woman's chest paled into insignificance beside her own admirable cleavage. If she kept telling herself that then maybe she would eventually believe it actually made a difference to Une's temper. One day.

"Yes, ma'am. Her personal secretary contacted me a few minutes ago to say that the Prime is currently enroute to the accommodation apartments to see Prime Khushrenada. Additionally he gave an estimated itinerary for the Prime's activities for the remainder of the day. Prime Gabriella will be moving on to Tsuberov after concluding her session with Prime Khushrenada, and hopes to be in attendance here at the Agency headquarters at approximately 18:00 hours. At that time, on the Prime's instruction, he requests that you be present for a briefing on Prime Khushrenada's condition and a consultation concerning any working restrictions that might be required."

Une turned from her panoramic view of the city to blatantly stare at her secretary, a light frown steadily growing deeper as she considered the woman who visibly wilted beneath the weight of her attention.

"Prime Gabriella's personal secretary called?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Prime Gabriella does not have a 'personal secretary' to call the organisation and make an appointment to see me. Prime Gabriella, being Prime Gabriella, simply appears in front of a body blown in on the strength of a category four wind and informs you of what your latest sins are; and deals out summary punishment accordingly." The frown had grown to a full on scowl. "I repeat, Prime Gabriella does not have a Personal Secretary."

The buxom woman sidled a little more in the direction of the door. "With respect, ma'am, she does now. I could hear the Prime in the background and as it was a video call, I actually could see her. The call came from the hotel where the Prime is resident for her stay in the city."

Une's glare did not falter in the slightest and Molly wilted a little more, edging toward the door but refraining from making a run for what she considered to be safer ground. Une was almost impressed with this suggestion of a backbone her secretary displayed. There might be hope for the physically over endowed idiot after all.

She had better things to consider than oversized boobs and the lack of a spine. She did not need the distraction.

"Out."

Her executive secretary scuttled out the door with an admirable turn of speed and Une turned back to her view through the window. The best thing about her office was the view, it was her one balm in a world that was coming to a chaotic end in her opinion. She fervently wished it would do so on someone else's watch. One thing after another landed on her desk, day in day out, from mildly annoying inefficiencies to a full blown crisis and multiples of the same. It was a good day if only one world shattering event landed on her desk, but such was not to be the case this time around.

In her honest opinion this job sucked, but she would not give up the position for anything. It was an addiction, raising her adrenaline levels, drawing her further and further away from the cloying grasp of her family and offering her the certainty that she was good at something other than being a breeding machine. They had never appreciated her for anything other than her bloodlines, but here... Here it was so very different. She was her own woman.

Distractions, again. She needed to exercise the very discipline she demanded of her teams and get back on track.

The question of the hour still lacked resolution. How was she supposed to section off a good sized portion of the city, evacuating everyone in the affected area and establish a safe zone? The evacuation had to be complete, including every registered tenant, every bum, hooker, pimp, drug dealer and homeless waif wandering the alleys and sewers. Yes, evacuating the area could be done, there was no doubt of that, but Noin was talking 'now'. Immediate evacuation, not a procedure to occur in multiples of days or weeks.

Effective immediately, sooner rather than later. The sheer logistics of such an operation...

City bureaucracy did not work that way.

It was likely to take days to organise the exodus of so many people. She was in the formative stages of the process of working out exactly who it would be best for her to contact to get this operation underway. Though she wished otherwise, it was not simply a matter of placing a call to the Town Hall and expecting the Mayor to accept, at face value, the need to evacuate entire city blocks.

Nor was it in their favour that it was a 'lesser' area of the city.

A poor quarter, so to speak. Not quite the slums, but close to it. An area where there was no exact head count for the occupancy rate on a day to day basis. For every person the city records actually knew inhabited the area, there was likely to be at least three individuals who were not on any official records in any way, shape or form, sleeping, living and dealing there. How did you round up that many people and say you had them all, when you had no idea how many people actually inhabited the shadows at any time of any given day?

Noin was asking the impossible.

The Prime Clairaudient would be arriving any time now, the exact arrival time largely depended on the city traffic, and she had best have used that travel time to refine her argument to the point that Une was totally satisfied with her reasoning. Une would do her job, she would listen, nit pick, demand every ounce of detail, and then make her decision.

Who would be best to call in first to receive this information? Not one person alone, she mused, it would be best to summon a number of the city officials. A core group would be required to be briefed on their little crisis and that group, of course, would include the local law enforcement agency.

Joy. She was on such good terms with them at the moment.

Just one more impediment to the smooth operation of what was going to be a trying mission. Yes, think of it as a mission and herself as the mission coordinator. Take out the personal... dislike... she held for the arsehole who had invaded her office recently and disrupted her staff.

There with the unnecessary distraction again. Back on track. The arsehole would be dealt with in the fullness of time.

The operation would be a massive logistical nightmare and, in the long term, she alone would not be suffering the pain of organising it, but she was likely to be the one who carried the can for whatever went wrong.

The Blame Game was a game politicians were only too happy to play, so long as the finger pointing was not in their direction. They excelled at finding a scapegoat when one was needed.

Une rubbed the bridge of her nose, contemplating the day thus far and wishing she could simply throw the lot in the 'too hard' bin and head on home to bed. She had a headache and it was bound to get worse as the day wore on. It was simply way too early in the day for this kind of crisis and there was no hiding from it. Not that it was in her nature to let her side step the unpalatable.

There was a job to be done, and if she did not step up to the plate and take responsibility, then who would? She had a job to do, but one could dream, yes? For a few minutes every now and then through the day, she could think longingly of her bed and closing the world out around her. So much nicer to contemplate a few decent hours of sleep rather than organising the evacuation of tens of thousands of people.

Tension headaches sucked. It might yet develop into a full blown migraine if she was not careful.

She crossed her arms over her breasts and rested her forehead against the cool glass. The temperature of the glass felt so good against her brow. She needed a distraction... something simple. Just a few minutes of distraction to allow her subconscious mind to dwell on the possibilities, and to come up with a miracle. Noin would be arriving soon to thoroughly ruin any prospects of the day picking up and then there would be no opportunity to distract herself, budding migraine or not.

So...

Gabriella had a Private Secretary?

Yes, that would do as it came as more than a surprise that one had appeared out of the woodwork. Undoubtedly the old Prime had one, no doubt a full support team in the shadows, but one never heard of them. One never saw them. It was always just Gabriella appearing out of thin air with the wind at her back shaking up the world around her.

Suddenly, publicly, there was a personal secretary? How, why, had that happened? Whoever it was now playing the part of secretary was an uncommonly brave individual, given the erratic and dynamic personality of the old Prime. No easy job, one that honestly would frighten her into quivering in a corner, sprouting copious quantities of gibberish and blacking out the world if it were offered to her.

Une shuddered lightly, happy enough that it was not she who would be dealing with the woman on a daily basis. She might have liked the man's salary though, there would likely be a considerable bonus in there for exposure to highly dangerous and hazardous working conditions. Frighteningly, suspiciously, for Gabriella to have a public personal secretary, it hinted at unspeakable things. Unthinkable things, as in Gabriella staying in the city for an extended period of time.

"Mein Gott! Nein, nein." she breathed.

Ah, now wait a minute. She stilled, closing her eyes to the sight of the city spread out below her. Fool. Such a fool. What was she thinking?

Une pursed her lips, possibilities dancing through her mind. Oh yes, yes, she was a fool, an idiot. It might really be as simple as that to get some action out of reluctant city officials.

Simplicity itself.

There was no side stepping the issue that she was required to deal with the politicians and officials who ran the city. Officials who were fiercely defensive of their positions and responsibilities to ensure a smoothly functioning city structure. The people did not appreciate disruption to their daily routines, and therefore the city infrastructure had to function smoothly. She needed to evacuate a rather substantial chunk of said cities real estate, and establish containment lines for an indefinite period of time. This would undoubtedly lead to disruptions for a good sized portion of the city population. Unhappy constituents led to unhappy politicians who might not survive the next round of elections, and therefore would not willingly cooperate with her plans.

Her problem was how to sort out how best to tackle getting the politicians on side without stepping on too many toes and making enemies of people she would need for other cases to be solved. She needed to determine how best to tackle the actual clean up of a contaminated site once the area had been adequately secured. The clean up would require psychics of various fields, primarily empathic and telepathic individuals with, presumably, a smattering of clairaudients in their number. She doubted Noin on her own would be able to handle the matter.

The point was, it would take a large number of psychics to complete the operation. From Noin's earlier initial briefing, it would take more telepaths and empaths than the city currently boasted.

And the Prime, THE Prime talent in that very field was, at this time, within the city limits.

Gabriella. The old harridan had proven time and time again that she was as tough as nails and would take no idiocy from anyone. Anyone, including the highest ranked politicians in the ESUN. She had garnered the reputation of being fearless, facing down anyone when she found a cause, and Une had no doubt about the old woman's ability to win. The woman was a dynamo, a force of nature no one could hope to contain.

She was her solution to gaining the cooperation of the city officials. And to acquiring the required talents to deal with the issue.

All she had to do was get in touch with the Prime and explain to her in detail the seriousness of the situation. She would need to provide proof of the circumstances, but that was where Noin came in. The woman was a Prime in her own right and if there was one thing Une knew, it was that a Prime respected another Prime from a differing field of expertise. There was not likely to be a personality clash or sabre rattling between the two elites.

She would need Noin to speak with the woman and inform her of the evidence for the disaster Noin foreshadowed would befall the city if nothing was done to stop it. And as it so happened she was expecting Noin to appear at any time, certainly within the hour. She might even now be within the building, but she was surely not far away.

Once she had Noin and they had gone through the evidence and made certain it was flawless, one did not present flawed details to the old woman, then it would not be much of a problem to catch Gabriella. After all, she knew the exact itinerary of the old woman, thanks to her newly in evidence Personal Secretary.

Une smirked, satisfied with her deliberations. It might not be so difficult to make the politicians take them seriously after all. Everyone knew the reputation of the fearsome old woman. She might even get to like the old psychic.

"Molly! Coffee!"

—

Gabriella was feeling particularly satisfied at this point in time.

She had not doubted his training, given his background. Her grandchildren in Sanc who worked within the palace in any capacity, were well versed in the proper protocols for every situation. This particular grandchild had worked directly under Pagan and she had no doubt his training had been rigorous and quite thorough beneath Pagan's guidance. Pagan had particular standards, after all, and accepted only the best to work beneath him.

Certainly her youngling had sounded every inch the professional personal secretary for a person of prominence when he had contacted the Agency.

His sudden appearance and placement as her assistant would lift more that the odd eyebrow, of course. She was well known to be a law unto herself, and it was a rare occasion that she travelled with a public entourage. Notably she was known not to travel with a personal secretary per se. She preferred to arrange her own matters in her own time, and in her own way. Rarely to the comfort of others.

In truth she had a full and highly competent staff, it was just that they were never on immediate public display. At need a quick call could be made, as she had done before leaving Sanc to ensure that hotel accommodations for her grandchildren, and everything they could possibly need, would be on hand for their arrival. Her staff were present, but in absentia to the casual observer, as she preferred it, and they were extremely efficient.

Making a vidcall, or by making direct mind to mind contact with her usual personal secretary and staff, was as close to her physical presence as she desired her staff to be. As a rule. This situation was an exception to the norm.

He was... soothing to her senses.

She needed to know his exact capabilities, to ferret out any bad habits he may have acquired, assess his skills base and his temperament. She had plans for her children. Not all of them would remain in her immediate reach, certainly not in her immediate presence, but she had plans that, if they were able but above all willing, they would find fulfilling and satisfying. And it must always be their choice. She would never directly order them to take up a particular position.

He was... so astonishingly soothing to her senses.

She needed to acquire a fully trained competent staff for another grandchild who would, in the fullness of time, make waves in psi society. She initially would keep him under her wing during his probation, but eventually she would cut him loose, as she had her Naughty Boy, and then let the world beware with those two running lose.

It would be a sight to see, the pair of them making waves that would be world shaking in the fullness of time. For that to happen smoothly a competent staff needed to be assembled. A well oiled team who knew their place and their jobs and she would arrange that staff. Choosing only the best individuals suited to HIS personality. There would be no simple pointing and assigning just anyone to the role, this would be required to be handled delicately. It had to be just right. Gabriella did not do things by the half measure.

She watched the city street for a long moment as the limousine glided through the heavy traffic. So many people going about their every day business, so many lives unconcerned with the big picture. Concerned only with their own lives, their families, yes, but chiefly with what happened to them as individuals. It was human nature, of course, and she understood that. It was the exceptional individual who looked beyond the 'me' to the 'us' for more than isolated, infrequent moments.

"Next it is being Tsuberov you will be calling. Informing the Dean Gabriella is requiring health checks of Duo Maxwell, Quatre Winner and Zechs Marquise you will. Not to be subject to more or less than level five subject material are they, until present Gabriella is. Also additional requirement. Relena of Sanc to be confined to shielded quarters is, and given handbook, kinder grade, on telepathic protocol. Non negotiable this is, understand? Princess well might she be, but kinder, child, infant! This she is, given performance and lack of discipline. Not tolerating such disrespect will Gabriella be. Making clear to all Gabriella intends, that Gabriella insists on admirable restraint for all Psi."

"Yes, ma'am."

What he would be thinking of her naming the Crown Princess of Sanc a kinder, a child, she would have been amused to find out, but she would never peep at his mind. She was not one to bark about protocols and immediately break the rules herself... at least not obviously. He hardly looked disturbed by her vitriol as he inched closer to the controls of the vidphone. He was good at subjugating his body's clues as to the thoughts that went on in that pretty head of his.

Eye candy. One was never too old to enjoy it.

She settled deeper into the lush upholstery of the seat as the limousine wove through traffic, and watched as he put through the call, her eyes half closed, giving the impression she was dozing. She was liking this grandchild more and more, finding him to be a pleasure to work with. He had good instincts and sound training, and a good knowledge of the protocols to be used when in the presence of a Prime talent and, frankly, that surprised her.

Sanc had no Prime talents, other than herself, and she had never been registered in Sanc. It was not her home after all, she was a gypsy, bound to no land, free to roam at will. That was the way she was, a free spirit. Though others might not agree, either now or in the past, on the boundaries of that freedom.

Sanc certainly could boast high talents to be sure, a decent few level 8's in a variety of fields, of which this grandchild was one, and a few level 9's, but there were no actual Prime talents in any field to her knowledge. Yet the feel of this grandchild was a balm to her hyper sensitivity, and though much of that was natural charisma and restraint on his part, a good deal of it was training.

It took a good deal of natural talent to be invisible when in plain sight; to register as a presence but not as an intrusion on the hyper sensitive awareness of the Prime telepathic / empathic mind. He was comfortable to be physically near, something she had rarely found in her long life.

To her pleasure Adrian Carruthers was only the faintest of awareness to her psychic presence, even though he sat beside her on the wide seat, speaking with the University Master in a no nonsense tone. He was projecting calm authority and the inalienable right to order the much older, and very much more academically accomplished man, around. One might imagine him to be the Lord of the Manor and the University's Master to be a peon of times long past.

Well, no wonder really, given he was a titled noble in Sanc, not just one of the 'wild sown' cousins. He was legitimate, the heir to a Dukedom. He was confident in himself and his ability to command, not simply to serve.

Yet he was the faintest brush of warmth, a soft 'blue' glow to her hyper awareness. She could actually get used to having him close to her.

He was very good at what he did, she decided, and she would need to be wary because of that very skill. For his sake. It might come to the point where she did not wish to part with him and that must not be permitted to become a problem. For her and especially for him. She needed to be careful. Long years had she lived, but death came to everyone in the end and Gabriella was well aware that her days were numbered.

Science could do only so much to extend a human life and to offer some degree of relief for the physical weaknesses and pains of an aged body. She had largely enjoyed her life. It had been an interesting existence, one filled with events both good and bad. Long years filled with happiness, sadness, love and a good amount of hate, particularly in her younger years. Ah, she had known sorrow, such sorrow, and she had been forced into making hard choices. Painful choices. Choices that had left her weak and weeping at the price others had paid.

It had been a far from boring life, but to be honest she was tired. She had had many years in which to review her life, the decisions she had made, both good and bad, and in the end she accounted the days of her existence as being a good life. It was not a decision she had come to lightly. She had done so much, affected so many, but at the end of the day she determined it had been a life well spent. One in which she had made a difference to the world around her, to the people who inhabited it, and those effects had been for the best.

It was enough for her, who was her own harshest critic, to continue to live and to know that her life, now winding down, had been well spent. It would be good to rest, to lay down the weight of responsibility, for with great power came great responsibility. Rest would be welcome but such was not to be her balm as yet. She had more to do before she could permit herself that final sleep.

That final, lasting peace.

Her children must be provided for. Those of them who had been wronged in her absence must be cared for, the wrongs righted. At the least, justice should be given. It was her fault for not keeping a closer eye on the machinations of Sancian politics, but in her final days she would ensure her children through the years to come would be dealt a better hand.

Starting with those she now surrounded herself with, these children she had taken from Sanc and had given a new chance to live. There was still time to do the job properly.

—-

Professor Jones slapped the file reader on the table and glared at the messenger who twitched, looking as though he would take a long step back though he actually did not move. Quatre paused with the teacup raised before his lips and watched as the Professor's aura chilled.

He shuddered, strengthening his shields against the man's flaring agitation.

To say the man was annoyed by whatever the message he had received contained was an understatement. Professor Jones looked about ready to snap the messenger's neck, but the reaction was, thankfully, brief. The emotional storm peaked quickly, flaring with Arctic chill and then was subjugated.

The man was too well trained on the protocols of working with empaths and telepaths to forget himself for long. He was in the presence of a high talent empath and the need to control volatile emotion dawned on him as quickly as the rage had come. The chill emanating from him dulled down, muted, control established quickly. He straightened himself from his subconscious hunched position, squaring his shoulders.

The messenger looked anything but relieved.

"Inform the Master that I understand the instruction. You may go."

"Yes, professor." He wasted no time in getting the door between him and the irate man.

Trowa caught Quatre's eye and he shrugged slightly, the barest twitch of his shoulders. He had no idea what was going on, and he was unable to see the message still displayed on the reader partially covered by the Professor's large hand. He was not inclined to try the man's temper by trying to read it, or so much as twitching and drawing his attention until the professor had been given a bit of time to firmly establish his controls.

Honestly, he had had enough of the tension in the technicians and professors working with him throughout the morning's long sessions.

What he wanted to know was where Duo and Zechs were and what they had been subjected to when they were separated on their arrival. He had an idea of what would be happening, especially given his own experience, but no one would speak of them, concerning themselves only with the work they wanted him to do. Every look directed his way told him they were disappointed in him, angry yes, but mainly disappointed in him. He had broken basic training.

He was only too aware of how he had broken the long established protocols everyone at Tsuberov was taught from the day of their arrival, but to be honest he had had little choice. Didn't they understand the situation? Really? Anyone would think they were criminals or something, instead of teenagers who were friends and who were helping each other in a time of need. Zechs had needed help immediately and there had been a known Prime talent in that exact field on hand. He knew the man, had known his face so there was no chance of mistaken identity. It was a part of his training as a Winner to know the faces of the people who influenced the Winner fortune and he could not mistake the Prime.

Did they take him for an idiot who would permit just anyone to so intimately contact a high talent psi already in distress? He was not an idiot; he was competent enough in himself and his abilities to make on the spot decisions in a crisis situation. He would not apologise for any actions that he saw as being necessary to the well-being of his friend. Who was he to refuse that kind of specialist help when it literally walked through the door in such a timely fashion and offered to help?

Who could say what might have happened if he had waited for a specialist team from Tsuberov to respond to an emergency call? Any delay from the past evidence provided by previous instances, might have proven more costly to Zechs. It was odd, unusual, this attack. Frankly it had scared Quatre how the attack had so suddenly happened. There had been no sign, no indications of an imminent incident days before the actual episode, as there had been in the past.

No, Quatre believed himself to be in the right and he was heartily tired of being accused of terrible things.

Though to be honest, and he would be fair here, it might indeed have been a terrible thing if something had gone wrong. The professors were trying to make a case for why the rules were the way they were, but regardless, it was an If.

If something had gone wrong.

But nothing had gone wrong.

Trowa caught his eye and he straightened, forcing himself to stop dwelling on the 'what if's' and intending to get back to basics. He wanted to talk to his friend, whom he would happily describe as his 'special friend' if he dared. If he dared. He was a coward and he was going to have to make a decision at some point about their friendship and what he wanted it to be. They could not go on forever like they were and he wanted to keep in touch, be more than a passing acquaintance once they finished their education here. He wanted so much more than friendship.

He wanted to talk to Trowa, to explain to him why he was in the situation he was, but he was unwilling to draw the professor's attention. If they could just talk without anyone listening he could explain and maybe Trowa could tell him if he had overstepped the boundaries unnecessarily. He didn't think Trowa would agree with the clinical assessment of the trainers, though.

He didn't dare use telepathy either. Trowa looked haggard, exhausted and he wanted to know why he was at the laboratories instead of at classes. For him to look as tired as he did some deep level work must have taken place. The high calorie count of the meal spread before him could not be ignored. He would not break protocol again by telepathically touching Trowa's mind for fear he might inadvertently disrupt whatever procedure Trowa was taking a break from.

As he looked up Trowa ducked his head, visible green eye flicking to the Professor, and he half raised a hand, shielding his face with a glass of orange juice. His lips twitched, in silence mouthing a message as his green eye burned with curiosity. Quatre was adept enough in lip reading to understand the silent message.

'What is going on? What exactly did you do?'

No real mystery there. Of course Trowa would be dying of curiosity to know what was happening and would want an explanation. And he would explain, he wanted to explain, just as soon as they had some assured privacy and the Arctic chill that was the professor's temper was no longer breathing down his neck.

All he could do for the immediate moment was to mouth back 'later', sip his tea and do his level best to look the picture of innocence. He had had enough of the disapproval and simply wanted a few minutes alone with his significant other. Significant other? Why did he have to dance around like this? Hide the fact that he wanted so much more from Trowa?

But they were young, that might well be a factor of their relationship. The bright candle of youth flaring with passion only to gutter out at a short breeze and the flash of another pair of what-ever coloured eyes and a supple body... No. No, he had heard all of that from others too often. There was something especially significant about Trowa. It went deeper than the 'fires of youth'. All hormones and no sense was a favourite catch cry of his tutors at home and he was done with that. He would need to...

"It appears that there has been a change of plans for this afternoon's session, Mr. Winner." The professor's fingers clenched tighter around the reader.

Drawing a deep breath Quatre forced himself to set the teacup carefully in its saucer and focused on the professor. He was the picture of polite attention, no trace of his rioting thoughts betrayed him and he knew the man was no fool. He would know Quatre was pissed at the way he had been treated and being a Winner, he was unaccustomed to being treated like an errant child. Tsuberov had been good for him, as largely he was treated exactly like the other students in general. It had been refreshing coming here, and he had no desire to leave it in an untimely fashion.

His carefully blank features, deliberately schooled to not display emotion, would probably drive the man deeper into his anger, but Quatre was not inclined to care at the moment. He had been taught from infancy the need to project an attentive countenance, to hide what he was thinking and give his elders his full attention.

"Yes, professor?"

"The monitoring session is cancelled... for now. My apologies, Mr. Barton, for the inconvenience. Mr. Winner, you will return to the laboratory after your break and we will undergo another two levels of examinations. You have one hour to eat and prepare yourself whilst I assemble the team and we make preparations for the session."

Quatre blinked, feeling his jaw loosen but stopping it from falling open. The man looked anything but happy, in fact it surprised Quatre that he had not crushed the reader in his hand, he was so tense. To say that he was surprised with the new instruction was an understatement, but he did not have to be so blatantly obvious about it. His father always told him to keep a poker face and he knew he sucked at it, but this time he would manage.

"Another examination session? Professor? We have already worked through three levels of assessment. It has been determined that I am perfectly healthy, physically and mental.."

"I am well aware of your condition, Mr. Winner, given I supervised your examination. You do not need to spell it out to me." He was almost sure he heard the grating of teeth and from the set of the professor's jawline Quatre decided that yes, the professor was grating his molars together. "Be that as it may, we are under instruction to assess your physical and mental capacity at this time up to level five. The Master has given his instructions and we are duty bound to comply. Is that understood?"

Quatre scowled, shifting his gaze to focus on the table and resist the urge to punch it. For a long moment he pushed his meal around his plate and scowled, unseeing of the torture he submitted the fruit to. He was steadily getting pissed at the unfairness of it all, and that would not do. It would only serve to prove that he was more affected by the night's activities than he cared to admit at the present time.

It was not so much the work expected of him as their attitude that was annoying him, but did he dare to protest further? Would having a temper tantrum do any good? No, of course not. A cold and clinical demand for a further explanation as to why he was subjected to this level of assessment might garner him some sort of further explanation... Or not, given the man's aggravation at this time. Would further questioning of any sort produce any change at all?

He had spent all morning being poked, prodded and assessed and he was not keen on repeating the performance on an even deeper level for another few hours. That level of assessment might just show more strain than he was comfortable with. He was feeling 'alright' but alright was not his usual self. He was uncertain himself as to the extent of his capacity at the present time. He was not comfortable with the idea of deeper level testing and he needed to at least try to avoid further testing.

"The Master is in charge of the University, not the Laboratories. How can he..."

"Enough. Perhaps level five is a better assessment level after all. I am well aware of the Master's jurisdiction, Mr. Winner. If you care to take the matter up with the one who actually gave the order for you to return to the testing routines, then I suggest you call Prime Gabriella and tell her how unhappy you are about it!"

Quatre froze, staring at the man as though he expected him to grow a second head. He was... Horrified.

"Now if you will excuse me, I am duty bound to get out of your range until I attain a higher degree of control than I currently enjoy. I feel the need to bash my head against the wall a few times to expedite that numb feeling I need to find, so you have one hour, Mr. Winner. Do not leave this room in the interim. Mr. Barton, your supervisor will return to attend you, remain here until then. "

Quatre stared at the closed door for a long moment, blankly staring at the cool metal surface with its nondescript grey paint, his fingers curling inward, forming fists unconsciously. After a series of carefully controlled breaths, starting out on the breathless and ragged side, striving to reach for that professional detachment himself, he groaned softly and folded over the table. One hand swept his plate out of the way as he thumped his head against the table, his fists pounded the table top a few times and he was ashamed later to say that he whimpered.

"Oh Allah... Allah, no. Not that. Not Gabriella."

Trowa blinked, dumbfounded, both at the professor's tone and his abrupt departure, but even more affected by the blonde's defeated, horror filled whispers. He had no idea what this was all about, but he was dying of curiosity and he wanted an explanation.

Just what had Quatre been up to? What had he become a part of overnight that had the professor in such a snit? Why was the head of the University calling the shots in the laboratories? The University was totally separate in hierarchy from the laboratories, though they worked in conjunction. Who was Gabriella and why would she have such a devastating effect on his friend? Oh yes, he wanted answers to rather a lot of questions, not the least of which was to the question of how Duo and Zechs were involved in the matter.

Following an uncomfortable silence stretching over several minutes in which Quatre almost seemed to be sobbing quietly into the table's surface, he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He had thought Quatre would gain control of himself, but that appeared to not be on the blonde's agenda. At least not any time soon, and given they only had a limited time before a supervisor appeared, he would need to take matters into his own hands. He had to jog Quatre out of his self absorbed misery.

It was unlike Quatre to behave like this. He had picked out the blonde's temper easily enough, despite his good control, but this was not temper. He knew Quatre on a deeper level than anyone at Tsuberov understood, with the possible exception of his room- mates. All of that anger, so tightly controlled, had now plummeted to a depressed misery.

"Quatre? What's going on?"

He laughed, softly, and there was a hysterical edge to the sound that set Trowa's hackles rising. He had heard that laugh from his friend before, on a number of occasions. He had only ever heard it when his father, the almighty Winner, as Quatre had snarled then, had made decisions that Quatre felt powerless against. It was a brittle sound filled with distress.

"Quatre?"

"Sorry. So sorry."

Trowa sighed softly, running a hand through his long side bang, wanting to reach out and shake Quatre out of his mood. "Sorry for what? You are not making any sense, Quatre."

"It's the end of the world. It's the end of... Everything. The end of the world."

Well, that was certainly enlightening. "I... don't understand. What is wrong?"

The fists gently pounding the table flattened out and slender hands spread over the surface, twitching every now and then, but at least he appeared to be relaxing. After a long moment he heard a sniff and realised that Quatre might actually have been crying and he cursed protocol that forbade him from touching the one he wanted to be far, far more than simply a friend.

"Quatre?"

It was indeed a tearful face that was raised from the table and those slender hands were quick to wipe away the evidence, but the blue eyes remained watery and there was abject misery in the low moan.

"I'm doomed. Sooo doomed! Gabriella has taken an interest in me."

End

Karina Robertson 2013

Notes:

Commander Anne Une: Level 8 Telekinetic. Operations Commander of The Agency. Contracted term of 10 years with 7 years remaining. Berlin Division. [22 yrs old].

Molly Davies: Agency Executive Secretary. No Psychic Talent. Executive level security clearance 7. English. [28 yrs old]

Adrian Carruthers: Level 8 Sending / Receiving Telepath Level 5 Receiving / Projecting Empath. Psychic Institute Luxembourg Division. [Age: 28 years, Blood link to Gabriella and Peacecraft lineage]

Gabriella : Romany descent. Level 10 Sending / Receiving Telepath + Level 10 Receiving and Projecting Empath. Prime Rated. Training facility rumored to be Government Laboratories of the Prussian Republic deposed in the year AC 45. Age: Unknown [rumored to be approximately seventy four]. Oldest of the Prime Telepathic Empaths.

Professor Jones, Technical Training Officer, Tsuberov, 5th year tenure. Age 45 years.

Trowa Barton: Clairaudient Level 6 Projected level [8], Unrecognised talent, Medium. Training facility, Tsuberov [age 19/20 years] Second year student

Quatre Rababer Winner: Psi student, 2nd year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Current Level 5 Telepath, projected Level 7, Current Level Receiving Empath 9.3, projected Level 10, Prime. Current Sending Empath Level 2, projected Level 4. Colony of Origin, L4 Cluster [18 years of age]


End file.
